A mali'kyr stands in the rain of Maehrel-Vaxu. The island home of his people forever barraged, it seems, by typhoon. 
Directly infront of him is an Orc of which he has come known as a close friend, a teacher. Both of them seek the same things. Though their cultures are vastly different. They are found together in ideal..

But this meeting is far beyond this.

Ilzho, the orcish scholar, makes busy conjuring up a sight that Volry, the elf, is woefully unfamiliar. Those clouds above harken to some grander thing then swirl into a confusing miasma. Dark thunderous shapes that brought down lower.. and lower..

Through rites of Shamanistic words which are so foreign at first the young maehr would repeat as he is instructed. He beckoned to something. A spirit. The storm itself it seemed ave answer.

NEIZDARK!

The roar of his voice reached higher upon each use. Starting weak, confused.. A student not confident enough to command.
But his voice hardened. His teacher demanded it. The spirit would not favor any word spoken that wasn't definitive.

Again he beckoned, this time with a heavier voice. . .

NEIZDARK!

A BOOMING strike made way for the manifestation of something woefully powerful. The storms above echoed it's entrance in a cacophony of noise. 
Infront of the blooded and madly grinning orc, the form of the Storm Spirit was summoned. Impossibly swirling and thundering clouds that seemed to watch the maehr's every move. 
Chosen, commanded, and chained together the two became. Energy like that of lightning struck into him. A searing pain of which nearly brought him downright to his knees. For no matter his strength- this power was that of an elemental...

By the end- of an arduous process. Volry found himself, indeed as his teacher has said, connected forever to this being. Neizdark. A tool of which to use. A great power he felt the need to appease. 
A Strom Shaman made anew. 

(Animism Pact: Storm)


 

Zagraath

Spirit of Maherian Vitality

(Lesser of Akezo)

“I wish to tend to my people in their time of need.”

Aryzeon had taken a maehr new to the faith upon this journey. It allowed her to impress upon him their influence upon the world. It was a pleasant journey, as most were within the land of healing. After a long walk, they would arrive to the clearing Zaagrath had claimed, and there a pact was forged and a deal made.

“You may call upon me when your people are in need of a healing touch”

The trees were marred by Hellfire, making nests for the Night Father's infernal brood.

This has been our burden, since Magara'lin. 
"ᛪψɛʅ¤ᵲ ɠʊðᵲɛʅ."

☾༻⸻☾ꈊ☽⸻༺☽

Sathoro, son of Vierna Kameki and Arzota Shadeleaf, knelt before the Answer. He felt the scattered eyes of the Des'Nox tribe and a thousand other Ancestors upon him.

He felt the weight of history, and the Maehr Question.

And to the Answer he swore:

"Grant me your light, and I will give no demon quarter. Give me your light, and I will suffer no curse that comes before me.

Grant me your light, and I will cleanse the soul of my people."

And his vow was to those that were as fallen as him; to the kith and kin whose hearts were hard, and whose minds were gnawed by the same Madness of the First Ones; the fallen Night Father's blessings; the Curse of Impermanence.

The Curse, which he had seen place shade parasites, necromantic tethers and all manner of darkness into his elders.

The Curse he had known to lead his Aegisian ancestors to Drauchreim, and the Betrayer's embrace.

The Curse he had known to topple Magara'lin, Elson Zidar, the Ker'nor of his birth and the countless gatherings of his Cursed people since old Axios.

☾༻⸻☾ꈊ☽⸻༺☽

Sathoro forgot the god he was kneeling before, and his vow was made to them.

And so the Answer received him.

[ Aphorinai ]

Spirit of Seafoam

(Lesser Water Elemental Spirit)

"Extend your arm; I shall inflict my mark upon you."

———⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･———

The maehr awoke half-dipped in water among calm tides, waves slowly lapping around the elfess as she laid in the sand. Warm sunrays came down from above to heat her skin, light pouring onto her eyelids. The drow sat up as they opened, water dripping down from her braids.

She was immediately met with an all-too-familiar view of a beach; it seemed to limitlessly expand, the dark elf standing up. 

A ringing began in her ears, a voice resounding in her mind,

"You have entered my realm; speak to me—come in.”

The dark elfess’ gaze looked around—nothing else was in sight. It fell to the water with a light huff, and with a small bit of hesitance, she waded into the water, the white sheet she was dressed in flowing as she continued down further. The waves rose up to her chin as her height left her, relying on swimming as there became a dreadful realization that it would not be on the horizon, the voice echoing a single word that confirmed her belief:

 “Descend.”

She took a breath, holding it as she then dived into the water, the beams of light shooting past her, though their intensity fading. The maehr continued swimming downwards, her lungs beginning to burn, a slow instilling of panic forming within herself.

The elfess continued her journey despite her body’s warnings, her lungs fiery as she could feel the water pressure increasing upon her descent. Her eyesight began to fade; Ilmra wanted to turn back—to save herself. However, she didn’t, the single word resounding within her mind, continuing downward.

The maehr lost consciousness, washed up on the shore as she once more awoke, the same waves slowly lapping up around her as she sat up. She was completely drenched, reaching up to scrub the wet hair from her eyes as she took a peek around. Infinite shoreline, as before—no marks in the sand, still clear skies. Ilmra was likely further down the coastline from before. Below the reflection of the water, something glowed—she squinted, standing up as she peered towards it, focusing through the haze as she saw the outline of a creature. A jellyfish? Before she was able to call out towards it, the same voice from before continued:

“You have passed my challenge. Now, come to me.”

As much as the dark elfess wished to retort with a smart remark, she held her tongue, nodding as she once more waded into the water. Her head submerged, now capturing the full view of the giant jellyfish of varying, colorful patterns.

Upon her attempt to speak, bubbled water dived down from above, rushing into her throat and into her lungs; but instead of choking upon it, her suffocation ceased—it was quite the opposite, in fact, able to breathe in the foamy liquid. Her voice poured out,

“I wish to serve your will—to pact with you.”

“Then my price is as follows. You will erect a shrine and offer in my name, and my will should be spread. Extend your arm; I shall inflict my mark upon you.” 

The maehr nodded, offering the left arm towards the figure, finding the terms acceptable.

Its tendrils surged forwards, wrapping around Ilmra’s limb as bubbles of heat dispersed from her ashen skin. She bit down on her lip with a deep breath as the brand was administered, watching the tendrils leave an iridescent layer of seafoam bubbles upon her arm. The limbs of the being unraveled; before she was able to look up from the mark, she was returned to the material plane.

[ Meridias ]

Spirit of Scouring

(Lesser of Scorthuz, Spirit of Cleansing, Purity and Purging)

“Clean yourself, darkness around.”

 🪶———————🪶

The maehr awoke, surrounded by a warm, dense forest of huge trees looming above as her sight returned to her. Sunlight streamed in from the branches and gaps from the leaves; she sat up, finding herself on a natural, dirt path. 

Rustling was heard from above, the drow’s ears twitching as she looked around–a singular feather drifted down from above, the breeze conforming against her back in a light push, guiding the dark elf down the pathway.

After a bit of a walk, the road led to a mass clearing–the field filled with white flowers, the sun’s calm gaze reflecting off each petal. In the center, a gargantuan tree stood, swaying in the breeze. Her ears began to lightly bob, the warmth absorbing into her skin, a smile forming upon her expression, taking in the scenery. 

Her deep, purple eyes settled upon the central tree. Light reflected from a surface high on a branch, soon realizing that she was being watched. The maehr turned, waving in the general direction, positioning herself to get a better view–a large, bright-colored owl came into view, its eyes gently locked onto the dark elf, seeming to follow her. 

From high above, the being hooted, its wings fluttering open a moment as it spoke:

“Come here,”

it beckoned, and so she approached–though, she quite noted the height she would be required to climb. She lacked the gear to do so efficiently, only presented in little clothes; however, the lack of extra weight would make it easier.

The drow obliged with the spirit’s request, beginning her climb with what little she had. 

The owl waited in the branches, the sun still streaming in; the trip didn’t quite take as long as she thought it–the further she climbed, the lighter she felt. The maehr reached the same branch as the figure, stabilizing herself on adjacent branches, her eyes now locked with the spirit’s piercing blue gaze–they seemed to study the woman’s very soul:

“Why you here?”

 Its wings ruffled to readjust them, looming. The woman had caught her breath, placing her back against the trunk of the tree, holding onto branches in both hands to steady herself. She cautiously glanced around, looking down towards the ground; however, her gaze seemed to soften as it rested upon the owl, answering: 

“Need help.”  

The dark elf's grip was quite tight on the branch, her knuckles quite the lighter shade; her gaze occasionally bounced down towards the ground, then back up towards the owl, each glance a reminder to keep her eyes on the figure. She seemed averse to the height, but was up there anyway. 

The owl beckoned her on, and so she let go of either branch approaching, her gaze now only focusing on the owl, her deep, purple eyes resting on it, continuing:

“Want to spiritually bind.”

The spirit sat back, its tail flicking to the side, replying,

 “Clean yourself, darkness around.”

The large wings of the owl flapped, causing a breeze to pick around the elven woman, the bird continuing to speak:

“Make shrine, our pact is fate.”

[ Iusrzfel ]

Spirit of the Watch

(Lesser of Vulka, Spirit of Warfare, Strategy, and Siegecraft)

(Err-serrz-fel)

"Walls do not fall when they are struck. They fall when those atop them stop watching."

 ⏿———————

The dark elf stood atop a great wall built atop a mountainside; it was very quiet, the wall stretching from one side of her view to the other, filling the horizon.

In the cold air, frost clung to the armor she now wore; a torch became her only source of heat. Hours passed as the night grew frigid, her torch no longer burning steady, now sputtering. In the tower, her eyes rested upon what appeared to be a war horn; it was larger than her, however a mouthpiece was in reach. 

Ilmra continued to shiver from the harsh cold, her gaze tracing the horn from bottom to the top. Crudely wiping the mouthpiece with the leather palm of her gauntlet, she took a deep breath before beginning to blow.

The war horn echoed through the valley, soundwaves bouncing back and forth. A whisper came upon the winds, spoken by an unseen voice:

“Tell me child, why did you sound the alarm?”

The maehr leaned up from the horn, becoming still; her teeth chattered frigidly.

“My home is under threat,”

she responded firmly, not straying from the voice, teeth now clenched.

A figure descended from the skies, hovering before the tower; it filled her view,

“You are late. But you came before it was over.”

The dark elf kept her eyes locked with the spirit’s, unwavering, 

“I could not prevent the start, but now I must defend my home.”

“Every wall has held a thousand names. When the night comes, you will be awake. If you want thanks, leave. If you want your home standing, stay.”

The maehr’s eyes steadily concentrated on the figure, refusing to turn her attention away as she spoke with determination, the cold no longer affecting her,

“I do not care for gratitude; I will protect my home for as long as I stand. Those that I love are within my walls. And I will not let rancid barbarians impede on my city and my citizen’s wellbeing.”

“Many desire responsibility, few want to bear it; you will come to know its cost. A horn you shall always keep on you, and a shrine upon your walls are my price, should you accept.” 

“I accept, and I will; it is a small price to pay. I accept the responsibilities of the watch.”

“Good luck.” 

‿︵‿︵‿୨  [ Zagraath ]  ୧‿︵‿︵‿

Spirit of Maehrian Vitality

Lesser of Akezo, Spirit of Healing, Vitality, and Healing

✦•························•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•························•✦

What are you waiting for? Chase it.

·····•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•····

Within the bustling coastal city of Cerulia, a group of Maehr settled themselves to visit a realm that was full of life and shimmer, welcoming and warm that just seemed to bring a sense of ease and soothing. A flash of a white being seemed to gallop from one stream to another, as if beckoning those that witnessed it to join after.

The two novices under watchful gaze seemed to make chase, though one seemed to easily copy such elegant movements while the other had to take time and recover. One hurdle after another, being would stop upon a challenge that seemed to test their will, the stream that brought a challenge. 

With two varying results, the spirit could not help but ask:

What is it you seek? Why do you run through my forests?

One answers in nervousness while the other in confidence:

Osyen Aeth Nyraz Maehrvot

If you deem me fit, a pact with this young farseer is what I seek

A moment of deep sigh came upon their breathing, lowering its head to present the horns that had displayed ethereal majesty:

I demand a shrine made to honour me, forevermore. Offerings given in my name, Mend those who are in need and remind them of my might.
Place a hand upon my horns and seal your pact mortals.

And thus the realm seemed to have brought them back to reality, groggy and a strained neck though one that filled their heart with fulfillment, the start of their journey as shamans….

 [ Zagraath ]

Spirit of Maehrian Vitality

(Lesser of Akezo, Spirit of Healing, Health, and Vitality)

'Osyren aeth nyraz maehrvot'

"You may call upon my boon whenever you need it."

 ————𐂂———— 

Hidden within Cerulia, a bustling coastal city in the realm of Azuras, a group of dark elves sought to visit the realm of Zagraath.

The pair of maehrs awoke in a lush forest of shimmering trees--leaves of pinks and oranges glistened in golden light. The forest was calm, welcoming, and warm. The trio stood upon a dirt path that snaked tightly between the trees and shrubs of the woodlands. 

A sudden flash of a white blur burst past them, galloping along the trail.

“Well… What are you two waiting for? Chase it.”

The dark elves pursued the spirit through the grove; with grace, the stag leapt over a large stream, planting itself on the other side. His head was held tall, his horn resonating with the glow in the forest. 

Either leapt, though one quite less elegant than the other, approaching as the stag spoke:

"What is it you seek?" - “Why do you run through my forests so?”

The young female maehr dipped her head, water still dripping from her hair as she made her requests known: 

“I would like to pact with you, to serve your will.”

Zagraath drew in a deep breath; he lowered his mighty head, looking closely at the two young maehr before him:

“I demand a shrine made to honor me, forevermore. Offerings should be given in my name… Mend those who are in need, remind them of my might. Place a hand upon my horn and seal your pact, mortals.”

Ilmra closed her eyes, bowing her head as she placed her palm against the spirit’s horn. 

Lanyxzu

Spirit of Everlasting Purity

(Lesser of Scorthuz)

“I embody Purity eternal.”

∘₊✧────✧₊∘

Secure in a sanctuary to the spirits, the Eldest Maihieuh traversed onward along a winding path and through a silver tree forest. She found herself at ease within this serene realm, and pushed onward to find the spirit whose lands she explored.

“Tell me Farseer, will you stand against impurity in my name?”

“I will - I will return all that is tainted to their pure state, I will do so in your name, Lanyxzu.” the Maihieuh stated as she bows her head towards the spirit.

With words exchanged a deal was struck, a pact made - a promise of Purity.

∘₊✧────✧₊∘

“All things as they should be.”

Lesser of Dazkur  -  Smaohtrankarparg, Spirit of Vigilant Protection.
 

———————————                                                                                 ——————————
POUND after POUND the realm rumbled.  Awakened.  Obsidian walls, a darkened sky. . . and an ‘o so eerie staircase that’s end was too far to see.  The howl of the winds above deafening, then silence.  Dust and earthen sands blown over the edges of the walls in puffs of dirt, coating the obsidian mounds layer after layer in itself—a land in darkness and left in silence.

And yet eyes watched.

The shallow thoughts rippling as he woke, pushing himself off the grounds as another shake of the earth scattered below.  The man’s ears twitching, pointing out to the depths of the surroundings walls that reflected his image. . . and so he climbed the stairs ahead of him.  Beckoned to movement, and to the stories laid within the abyss.

“Honlat.”  The voice boomed, vibrating throughout the earth, verberating inside his mind.

(( “ You see. “ ))

Kharajyr faced to the walls then, drifting within the abyssal mirror, greeted to himself.  And then others.  Memories rippling in the stone, deep within the play of the darkened mirror as he watched himself—shield in hand as he tensed.  Himself faced against a mighty minotaur, pressed ahead of his party, his eyes filled with determination— a flame.

“Honlat.”  The voice boomed.

(( “ You see. “ ))

The man pushed forward, eyes focusing back to the stairs—still walking.

Another memory.

Another day.

The mori’s invasion pressing against his mind as he looked, himself at the front, gripping a cannon as he steadied himself amidst the kinship of his allies around him.  The scene blurry.  Orcs once.  Humans another.  Kharajyr— and the elves.  Focus on them all as the familiar scenes played.  Verachone arming himself, shield still kept upon him as he pressed himself alongside those he fought with. . .

“Honlat.”

(( “ You see. “ ))

He woke, paw against the obsidian wall as it ended.  A cliffside viewing the rest of the realm.  A blackened sun with flares of galaxy flame, stars unseen in the dusk of this eternal night sky.  The end.

“Amat lat tul. . ?”

(( “ Why [ are ] you here. . ? “ ))

A giant hand rose, colliding against the obsidian mound’s side as it gripped the stone.  Rising.

“AMAT LAT TUL. . ?!”

(( “ WHY [ ARE ] YOU HERE. . ?! “ ))

The voice boomed, deafening as it rose.  The spirit rising from the depths of the chasm before the cliff’s edge, body taking over the horizon as it blocked out the sun—shifting the realm as that same sun warped and rose—placing itself before them all.  A halo of swirling flame around its head.  Its armored visage expelling the galaxy flame as he finally stopped within its rise, shifting the terrain as it pulled the platform wider. . . “I am honored to be before you.”

The man began his words.
 

“To honor my promise.”  He looked up to the spirit, a hand lofted to his chest.  “A promise to my loyalty and sworn protection.”  The man’s tail wafted.  “I have come to serve the spirits as I’ve promised myself to, and that I give my protection to those I am loyal to.  My oath to serve.”

“Amolub lat gundul. . ?”

(( “ How will you guard them. . ? “ ))

“. . .”  The man softened his poise, offering a nod.  “By being with them, as I have.  And as I will do— As I wish to do for you—to serve you.”

“Ghaak.” It spoke, blowing a ghastly flame. “Draaghlatub za frûm mohkum naadar brunlab.”

(( “ Let it be. “ )) — (( “ You will build this spirit [ a ] home among your people. ” ))

. . .

The words seemed to flow in his own mind as the spirit spoke it.

“Lup’Smaohtrankarparg.”

———————————                                                                                 —————————

Spirit of Colors
[Lesser of Brimztra, Spirit of Creativity, Art, and Music]
⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“You and I are truly the same.”
꒷꒦︶︶‧₊˚⊹˚₊︶︶꒦꒷

On one of the repeating nights of Nor-Velyth, a pair of siblings leaned onto each other as they drifted into a deep slumber within a room of meditation. They ventured out to transition from their realm and towards the spiritual realm where a dark room showed an endless number of canvases that were covered in bright and colorful paints, some abstract and others reflecting subjects that could be seen in the Mortal Realm. When one would crane their neck up and stare into what would be the ceiling, you would be able to see a colorful array of lights and colors as the windows were that of abstract panes. 

Upon arriving to this realm, the curious pair reached out to touch canvas due to how realistic it seemed. And surprise they were, when their hands phased into the painting, seeing their own attached limb look as if it is part of the painting itself. With this found knowledge the curious pair jumped into the canvas and witnessed how both their bodies seemed to change into that of what the painting style were, however, this would come to be their mistake as a voice called out….

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to touch paintings?!”

A floating painter’s palette came to view and scolded the siblings, beginning to ramble about the hard work they had put in into the painting they had jumped into, feeling guilty as they had ruined the painting, the male Maehr spoke up and offered to make amends by helping fix the painting. Anger subsided as the palette seemed to take this into account and said…

“My name is Valynmaar and I expect a painting of similar quality at a shrine dedicated to me!” 

And thus, the visit to the realm ended, the male Maehr filled with inspiration and excitement worked onto the painting and building the shrine, encouraging many of his peers to visit and witness the glory of the dedication he had in the name of Valynmaar.
 

Spirit of the North Star

[Lesser of Aztran]

Have you struck your true path?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Deep within the Delevoye home, while many lay in bed to sleep, four individuals set out for the unknown. Upon chanting together and preparing the youngest for what lay ahead, they all fell into a state of unconsciousness within the meditation room. Once awakened, they found themselves within a star filled land, one where the sky and the ground met, dusted with glowing stars that danced around them. This ethereal land only brought a sense of comfort to the sky loving individuals, most especially the one be speckled in stars herself. 

A calming voice spoke to her, “Due North.” While the others looked at one another in confusion, this only seemed to further comfort the eldest Maehr. Suddenly she felt like a child once more, listening to stories of when her family owned a boat. Of how they sailed and of their adventures, how they lived on it too. Eventually a gaseous form which would later be identified as a variable star, one who spoke with glee and cheer, led them to where said calming voice came from. 

Thus, Atryak was found, upon a hill made of stars, the gaseous form melded into it, disappearing without a trace. This otherworldly being descended from her hill, her own body made of the very stars around them. Luscious long hair trailed down her back and when she moved the surrounding stars would briefly dissipate. 

And so a deal was struck, Nova would build a shrine in the name of Atryak, the spirit of the Northern Star. She would spread her word, her guidance, and continue to find comfort and safety under her twinkling light. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Spirit of the Shooting Stars

(Lesser of Aztran)

"Have you ever wished upon a star?"

     Laid within the grand palace of the Moonlit Land, Seraphina would have entered the spiritual realms with the Primarch. Through lush fields of luminescent flora and glowing trees she followed the path. The vast stars filled skies of the lands before the wood elfess, she steels herself as she moved further into this plane, unknown by her.

     Then in a display most brilliant, a shoot stars streaks across the grand cosmos of the skies above. The grandiose display hits the luminous grand where star dust and light collects into a large twelve foot fox like being. It spoke in the olden tongue to the 'ame back and forth before it had leapt forth to her.

     The spirits head would lower, pure white luminous hues leveled to Seraphina's eyes as she kept herself steady. The terms were made, and thus the pact was therefore set in place.

"A shrine shall be built in your name oh Keeper of Wishes, and know that your praise shall be spread dutifully."

☾༻⸻ Spirit of the Eternal Moon ⸻༺☽

Before the hidden shrine, the massive Kha stands.

"Lesser ob the kranklob luara, descent ob she.  
 Lup’Velûlakeeyt, za ash offers u lat. 
 Grish.  Fur.  Asht."

The Kha sets down a wooden bowl, filled with his own fur and a ground up bone. He raises a blade, and runs it along his palm- an area already scarred from similar ceremony. The blood drips into the bowl.
"Akr'slaium agh mortality, link u izubu reality. 
 Ukû.  Gothûrz.  Tor."

Spirit of the Duality of the Moon

(Lesser of Luara)

“You have traversed my forest, basked in both my light and my darkness. You know now well what I represent.”

∘₊✧────✧₊∘

Settled upon the carpeted floor of her clan hall, the elder of the Maiheiuh lay beside a Zohar. Beyond, in the realm of Luara, the pair explored a forest that was both truly dark and beautifully lit. They would be forced apart, to travel through the thick foliage of the blackened forest before they would come to meet again. United once more, they stood beside a pool of silver fed by a roaring waterfall. Above the moon cast its light upon them, coating all in its glow.

“Speak to me why you have come to my realm.”

The Zohar spoke first, “We’ve come with a simple goal, Labethzyr, Spirit of the Duality of the Moon. To offer praise and pledge our complete devotion to you.”

The Maiheiuh quickly followed, “We offer ourselves fully to you, in worship and in faith.”

Words exchanged, promises made. A deal was struck, a pact sealed. Both Zohar and Maiheiuh pledged to the Lesser, and one bound themselves further yet.

∘₊✧────✧₊∘

“Go forth, children, and bask in all that I am.”

Spirit of Maherian Vitality

(Lesser of Akezo)

“You may call upon my power in your time of need.”

Hidden far above the night-bound city, the Halerir drifted beyond and into the realm of Akezo. There she walked, marching forth through caverns and clearing great distances before her amethyst eyes finally fell upon what she had been searching for. 

It stood there proudly, towering tall and looking down to her with glowing golden eyes - Zagraath, the Spirit of Maherian Vitality. The spirit which took the shape of a great stag-like beast beckoned her forth and welcomed her into its grove - a clearing surrounded by pink blooming flora of all shapes and sizes. She approached and they spoke, words uttered in the old tongue, ones she had grown used to hearing over the many years. 

Her trial completed, her endurance tested, Zagraath agreed to her request and a pact was made:

“Your words tell me you are fit to champion the vitality of your kin, and your actions reinforce it. Build me a shrine within the city, offer praise at it. If you are willing to do such, then a pact shall be made.”

“A shrine will be erected in your honor, and praise you shall have. Have no doubt these things will be done.”

☾༻—⸻ Spirit of the Eternal Moon ⸻—༺☽

“Lup’ Velûlakeeyt—”  A bowl rested in front of the shrine.  “—I offer this to you.”

Within the cold, echoing darkness resided this space.

Shrine of worship, thoughts turned to mirrored glass, and to be looked upon.

Lay strife into the calm.  Formless light envelop you.  Cast out your strife, child.

Welcome the gaze of all things.

“ Be one. “ 

 

Spirit of the Eternal Moon

Look upon that which is still, child of strife.

 Let the tide of thought turn to mirrored glass.

Spread it out like wings of flame, let all understand.

Welcome the gaze of all things, and be one
 

Spirit of Rainstorms

Look upon the rains, child of light.

Feel it's breath, feel it's connection.

From fingers high to winding roots below.

Welcome the heart of all things, and be one.

Spirit of Benthic Waters

(Lesser of Akathro)

“Respect the depths… but do not fear them.”

From within the humble tree-house home the Oussana had come to reside in, the cousins dove into the depths of the spirit’s realm.

A tranquil sea surrounded them, shimmering like glass in all directions. The pair would be guided into the waters, baited forth to the mighty crab that awaited them.

Eager to learn, the younger Oussana pressed on - asking questions of the lesser spirit and so an offer was made - an agreement came to - a pact created.

“Build a shrine in my name, spread the majesty of water to the minds of your kin, sacrifice creatures in my honor each year.”

“Ey kan do t’ese t’engs vor you, Obxkera.”

The maehr from the deep caverns of the earth now accepted the endless depths of the ocean, and so the pact was made between her and the lesser Spirit of Water.

As the morning sun beamed in savoy, only soon becoming cloudy, The shaman and seeker would board the Ship of the Nor’ and together embark into the plane that was told to the Solarii as the Astral plane. As Ember felt the unnerving feeling of her soul being tugged out of her body she let go entering with Acria into the Plan of the spirits, the fields filled with small white glowing flowers, complementing the greenery and glassy lakes beyond, The Solarii she-elf looked up to the sky, seeing many Boriales and star trails it was almost as if gems lit the sky up.

Upon the top of the hill, A azure star shined brightly, As The Shmaman and the ‘Solarii glanced at this being from the lower end of the hill as they approached so did the lead, as a glimmering blue trail was left behind the being took form as the guiding star, A twin of two, Pil’lir the Uniting spirit a lesser. The trio looked at each other as the princess spoke.

“Pil’lir….oh wanderer….its me….I returned….”

The spirit in return turned to the pair, as she saw not but the brown tusk or one of ashen skin and blue glint eyes, but one of ashen skin and purple glint eyes, blessed by the Moon.

“Welcome back child, I have expected this visit, and it seems you brought someone new.

(Broshan-kut dâg, Lat thrik ash ûn latz…)

The spirit gave a bow of its head to the shaman. However, her words were a bit hesitant, yet were ones that felt as if she missed seeing the spirit. However, the shaman jumped right into the objective of their visit

“I have brought a spiritualist, one cleansed by us from the void….I believe she will make a good follower.”

The being moved inwards pouncing and leaving a trail behind as she lowered herself, the blah she spoke upon ember was one even the mali could not understand.

“Once tainted by the Void and now cleansed, You wish to become a pillar hmm?”

(Latz brus-dushatâr agh rad latz-dûth, lat nargazab a shatûl hmm?)

The spirit looked down at the pare gazing with one eye to the shaman then fully returning back at the Solarii…

“Most Curious…”

(gûth-amat)

The being now awaited the response from the princess as she looked at her hands, thinking back at her course of actions, and thinking of the talk her sister and the darkened ‘aherral spoke of.

“I did not think she would do it, but the world has many surprises”

As such, she looked back at the spirit a tear shedding as she spoke her reasons, these tears shed to waterfall

“E’ was lost, and every time E' are lost my eyes looked up to the sky, to it!”

Her hand turned to a fist as she raised it over her chest, looking upon the nine-tailed fox spirit. The girl screamed her heartache, as she looked at the spirit 

“E’ want to guide others back home, where its safe, where it's free. and to be guided myself- so that I am not lost any more.”

The spirit slightly chuckled as it nodded down, a tail extended to her brushing her tears as she spoke now in common.

“Then so be it, sun child, for you will build me a shrine and continue to work as you would. Perhaps in time, my vision will be realized, with you behind my banner, shaman.”

By our will, the stars and light we shall guide those lost to found.