Even with the absence of the illusory magic or the psionic strange, afterimages of Aschwar and the Shofet in walks of life still linger in your minds eye. They carry on in training, in dining, in travel through the Shifting City throughout the temple, passing so close to your audience yet never colliding.
You have emoted: Gurashi's gaze loses focus for a moment, listening but momentarily distracted as they brush their hair from their face. "Oh..." More quietly they add, "thank you..."
Giving Faragan and Aeldra a single glance, Lantra then turns to you and places Her hands together in silent applause, Her veil masking much of Her true thoughts from view. "It is a tale I thought I knew," the Goddess says softly, "but there were chapters I see I was not privvy to. Entries that it surprises Me such an engimatic Elder would share with but a single shard."
Bizirik's head begins to droop. It opens its great maw and curls back its lips to allow its forked tongue to unfurl as it yawns before snapping its mouth shut.
You have emoted: Gurashi fidgets with the instrument, slowly lifting their gaze to meet Lantra's. They cant their head slightly, confused.
Leaning back, considering, Lantra, the Empyreal says, "The death of Ashtariel... To begin there, in a time so long ago it is easily forgotten, it evokes memories I rarely seek to recall. Of Mysrai before the war of the Circles. Before the Soulless arrived. A time of Creation, of Dynara, of nothing but unending promise."