On Aspects and Reverence

Eritheyl

In which Eritheyl meets with a Saint to discuss cult preparations.

You reach out and touch a pair of broad copper doors.

A warm wind filled with the scent of oranges washes through the monastery doors as they creak open.

The Courtyard of Broken Citrus.

Strange trees grow here, their bark a bizarre shade of indigo and their leaves a faded saffron. Tiles of jade in hues of pale ivory and emerald spread across the ground beneath, surfaces swept immaculately clear: figures of the Hermit Clad in saffron line alcoves in the wall, each expressing a separate mudra. Dishes of incense float languidly in the air before them, cones disgorging orange-scented plumes of smoke: sand trickles upwards from the ground to catch snapping sparks. A pair of broad, coppery doors rest here, panels emblazoned with devices of mantra-adorned oranges. Robed in ivory and orange, the Saint of Broken Citrus waits here with a gentle smile. His shafts of light moving erratically in orbit, a copper-wrought egregore with concentric halos of membranes waits here.

There are no obvious exits.

The Saint of Broken Citrus smiles softly.

The Saint of Broken Citrus exhales slowly, allowing a long fluid breath to creep from her lungs.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Hello, Beloved Eritheyl."

You smile and say, "Ah, hello. I hope I did not disturb you overly much."

The Saint of Broken Citrus smiles and shakes her head slightly. Her fingers play through her prayer beads.

Thoughtfully, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Hmm, yes..."

You say, "Mmm...?"

Distantly, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "You are slipping bit by bit, like paint in water, hues drawn out as the Void is drawn in."

The Saint of Broken Citrus smiles softly.

The Saint of Broken Citrus gazes upon you with black-shimmering eyes. Cold pinpricks of light and whirling constellations sparkle with the Saint of Broken Citrus's eyes as they regard you with unnerving, unseeing focus.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Creating space for the Will to slip in around the edges."

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "A bell chiming with Their Will."

You say, "Such has been my aim for years beyond count, perhaps even eons in which I knew not, was not."

Playing the beads one by one through her talons, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "What will you be, Beloved Eritheyl? The Red Hand became assassins, the Resinous Mysteries a thousand fragments, the Ebon became dancers in palled despair - the Scarlet an orgiastic harem."

You say, "That is the very thing that brings me here, to your place of repose...I am curious of many things."

The Saint of Broken Citrus smiles softly.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "I may have answers for some of these things."

You look thoughtful and say, "In months past I have spoken with many of your Thieves, and what tempting snippets and phrases they have to offer, indeed."

The Saint of Broken Citrus's eyes sparkle with amusement.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Yes?"

You recite, "At the heart bloomed the untouchable Ivory and the stubborn eye of the Indigo..." He pauses, bringing a forefinger to his chin. "It is the Hermit you depict here, His colours you garb yourself in, yet where does the Indigo persist?"

A tiny smile creases the lips of the Saint. She touches the centre of her forehead, then her heart.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Look to the trees. Listen to the chanting. Gaze on the tapestries and paintings of Their temple."

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "The brushstroke and the word are limitless worlds."

The Saint of Broken Citrus brushes her talons across the jade tiles.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "This too is Indigo."

You look undecided and say, "Is it a fool's errand to seek this ternion, the Ivory and Saffron and Indigo as one in the same, but revere only one Aspect as its font?"

The Saint of Broken Citrus shakes her head slightly.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "You are Sacrosanct and Speaker - you know that all ways are one."

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "To revere one Aspect is to use a lens to few the others."

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Are They not not striking, the Thrice-Crowned and the Urchin? The horned and the innocent?"

You smile and say, "So They are."

You say, "Ahh, what was the phrase...the joys of the flesh and the spirit...and the golden light of Our Lady in Indigo."

You look thoughtful and say, "This utterance does strike me as odd, for never have I known a guise of Them to so favour the Indigo beyond the blessed Merchant."

The Saint of Broken Citrus's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Thoughtfully, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "And having beheld the actions of those who have held Indigo, what reasons would you see for this?"

With a wry smile, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Save for yourself and the Beloved Orn, have their been any who have yearned beyond self for such a thing?"

You look undecided and say, "It would first be my assumption that this Aspect, this Lady in Indigo...She wraps Herself in slumber as with Beloved Zeebin."

With a level look at you, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Beloved Zeebin was... argumentative. Rash, even as his father was rash, yet more wrapped in brocade in his ways than his father."

Thoughtfully, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "To be clad in brocade as one is selfish does not make one less selfish. Only less obvious in ego."

Drily, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "The Beloved Zeebin, at times, believed that he himself was mocked and slandered if a single syllable was spoken out of place by Their servants, if a single barrier to be overcome were to be set in his path."

The Saint of Broken Citrus closes her eyes and inhales deeply, absorbing the scent of her surroundings.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "He could not become more than himself."

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Correction of ones path is not only beneficial, it is necessary."

The Saint of Broken Citrus taps her talons against the tiles thoughtfully.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "One must always consider that one has taken a poor path - a wrong one."

The Saint of Broken Citrus's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Lightly, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Ah, but perhaps there will be a Lord or Lady in Indigo. Will swells, it comes creeping through the dark and it comes marching through streets with banners."

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "What will you dream into the Void, Beloved Eritheyl, and what symbol shall you make, what thing shall call those aspects of this Aspect to being?"

Leaning forwards, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "How will your vision of Ivory and Indigo and Saffron inspire the Beloved and catch Their interest?"

You say, "I have never been more uncertain of my dreams, to be truthful. But I have found inspiration in this place, in you."

The Saint of Broken Citrus brushes her fingers against your cheek.

Softly, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "Then chase inspiration and let the Monastery guide your hand."

You say, "I Will it so, and so shall I. When all is in place, I will be ready to meet Them and forge this fevered dream."

The Saint of Broken Citrus closes her eyes and inhales deeply, absorbing the scent of her surroundings.

The Saint of Broken Citrus says, "So be it."

The Saint of Broken Citrus reaches out and squeezes your hand.

Gently, the Saint of Broken Citrus says, "It is not long, now. Go. Prepare yourself and rest. There is much ahead of you."

You smile and say, "Thank you, for your guidance. It does much to set my mind at ease, just as she did."

You reach out and touch a pair of broad copper doors.

The cold air of the city infiltrates the monastery as the doors to the outside creak open.

You say, "Dream well."