Spirits and change

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Aggravain

Squire
Owner
NEPA Staff
"Blasted thing always seems to break down when we're about to change shifts. I could be dominatin’ in Liars Wage right now, but
nooo; damn Apparatus has ta’ give me issues!" blustered the Dwarven engineer. His face was smeared in grease, tools of various types jangling on his belt as he sifted through his pockets looking for the one thing he needed. It was almost amusing to watch if it weren't so frustrating. These ancient devices could generate an earth circle if fueled properly, and have been the only way to resurrect after the fall. With the occasional disease or riot, they had been invaluable. Now, however, as Ca'el sat watching the dwarf work, she wondered how much easier things would have been before the fall. Then again she mused I wouldn't have been here then. None of the circle born would be.

Her gaze drifted back to the dwarf whose eyes widened then narrowed as he looked around conspiratorially. He delved into his beard, pulling out an oddly shaped wrench. "Right! I knew I'd need this!". At that he turned and began making adjustments; the soft glow of the center crystal thrummed and Ca'el felt it resonate with her spirit, if that's truly what she had.

No sooner had the engineer stepped back, a chime began to tintinnabulate from the brass and silver-hewn machine. He stood aghast at first, until he realized that it was meant to do that. His face then became sorrowful. "That's a spirit then. It's detected a spirit waiting to be brought back?" he muttered, turning nervously to study the stern mask of yellow skin, tusks, and war paint. She was strong for her people, and moved past him to the Apparatus with an air of quiet determination.

"You need to leave." Ca'el said without turning to look at him. The engineer didn't hesitate, and, gathering a tool or two he had previously dropped, sped for the door. In his rush he almost collided with the panicked young Librahm bursting in from the other side.

"What's has happened?! Who have we lost to the void?” she commanded, “Tell me Librahm. I need the here and now of it." Gulping at her sharp tone,, the young Biata nodded stammered, "It was Shiane, Mistress. She knew we were low on copper and made some claims about having been a miner before. I helped her remember with one of her trinkets. She went off and there… there was a collapse. We knew with so much rubble piled up, she couldn't have survived. I rushed here as fast as I could. I'm so sorry. I thought the memories would help her.” His lip trembled and his eyes widened as he did his best to hold his composure. It was a valiant effort but he soon gave way to tears, "I shared the memories that she hadn't been too good a miner, but she was sure she could, and I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Ca'el watched with calm, analyzing eyes. The Librahm had done the right thing. The Sylvanborn were timeless; they were many people and have lived many lives. With time, however, came loss of memory and loss of connection to who they were and the lives they had lived. The Sylvanborn had badges and trinkets of bloodstone that they kept so that a kindly Librahm could help. Many were the times one's old lives came in handy with solutions to new problems. She looked over her shoulder at the wisps that appear at times, the flickers of the spirits that made her. Tattered and torn tapestries that the Vreech had rendered too weak to resurrect. This is where the circle born came from. The earth, in its effort to renew life, took the pieces and made something, no, someone new. A whole race of yellow skinned, oddly tusked beings, who were so attuned to the earth they could sense the unnatural. They could evidently see ghosts and hear the whispers of whom they had been.

Ca'el took a moment and braced herself against the memories and voices trying to rush in. Her hands flew down her bandoleer. Crystals of various shapes and sizes, some more dull and pale, then some emanating a soft color flickered in the pockets across her chest. Her fingers fell upon two and drew them out. She turned to the Apparatus and pressed the crystals into the Fuel Placements. She whispered a soft oath as the machine reverborated, the resonance matching the echo in her spirit, before a circle flared around her.

The young Librahm leapt back, flattening himself against the wall and gaping at what he saw. Within the circle, this...Ogre woman was doing some kind of dance. She was reaching out to the air as she whispered, drawing something in. She seemed to be shaping it as she spoke words he couldn't hear, even though he cringed mere feet from her. Shaking his head, he continued to watch in awe.

Ca'el moved as she always did when gathering the tethers of a spirit in the circle, drawing them in. As she moved she felt changes; the spirit itself was different. Not wrong or ill, but aligning itself better with its needs and its purpose. She could feel that the spirit who was once Shianne had shifted, and though their purest essence was the same, they coalesced into a slightly different form. She talked them through this. She started reminding the being that had been Shianne they were needed and loved; their time as whom they had been was important, and that their knowledge and wisdom was needed if our people were to survive. Ca'el shared memories and stories of the Sylvanborn who had been Renewed. She reminded they who had been Shianne, that they were good and loved and needed and that many would be overjoyed in meeting whom they would become, no matter the shape or form their spirit chose.

Ca'el's hands now worked over flesh, massaging and guiding the figure which slowly formed to sit and then lay back. "The circle recognizes you and permits you to enter Librahm." the Ogre said without looking to him. Gathering himself the young man carefully stalked closer, stepping over the glowing circle as if it were going to bite him and moved to the Ogre’s side. He saw the face then and smiled softly. The person whom had been Shiane had renewed into a young person looking roughly his own age.

Ca'el leaned down and whispered into the Sylvanborns ear, careful to not touch the horns, noting that they had adjusted color and shape as well. The Sylvanborn whispered back and smiled softly. Ca'el beamed at the young Librahm as she gestured to the unfamiliar Sylvanborn. "This person who had been Shianne is now Berrick and he wishes to be an engineer, such is his calling in this life. Please record their memories for there are many would would welcome him to us and celebrate all Shianne had done.

The young Librahm smiled and his eyes brimmed with tears of joy at seeing so poignant a thing. He knelt next to Berrick, putting his hand in theirs, a blood stone clasped between the two. "I am Stefan, a guardian in training. Would you honor me, Berrick and those who will come, by telling me of Shianne so we may reach her if we are in need?"

The Sylvanborn nodded slowly and Ca'el stood up, weary to her bones from the Resurrection. There, outside the circle she glimpsed a tattered spirit of one she had been before the fall and she could have sworn she saw a look of pride on their face.
 
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