Isotta's song and Caedir

Aeldra

// This little log from yesterday that involved some of Serens denizens and @Aerdureth, @Ryylaet, @Lehki and me.
// Edited to be third person for easier readability ( I hope I haven't missed to edit any ).

Delicate, wordless strains of song begin to interweave with the melody of the Maiden of the Moonhart. At first soft and hesitant, soon they grow in confidence and echo with an ancient, ethereal power.
Smiling happily, a faeling flutters out to the west.
Lifting his head with regal grace, a giant noble eagle with eyes of lambent silver unfolds his wings and eyes his surroundings with a beady gaze. Satisfied, he tucks them back at his sides.
Aerdureth blinks.
A faeling flutters in from the west.
Aeldra blinks.
Aeldra says, "WE should go to the mother tree."
Tilting her head to one side, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Did you hear that?"
Aerdureth nods her head emphatically.
Aerdureth gets up off a moss-covered stump chair.
You are already following Aerdureth.
// walking to the mother tree

You follow Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg south to the Moonhart Mother Tree.
Miakoda, Maiden of the Moonhart tilts her head and listens intently.
A white, angry pony with blue feathered wings trundles in from the up.
Yipping loudly and wagging her tail quickly, a frisky puppy waddles in as quickly as her legs will carry her.
Fractals of pellucid frost arc and dance about a sleek snow phoenix with wings of sapphire ice in a graceful ballet of white flurries.
Continuing the hunt for his dark mate, Father Sun presses forward in his journey, lowering himself in the sky yet still casting even, full light upon the land.
You incline your head politely to those around you.
The Moonhart Mother Tree.
You see exits leading north, south, and through a vined stairway.
You step down off of a giant noble eagle with eyes of lambent silver.
A giant noble eagle with eyes of lambent silver obediently falls into line behind you.

Her smile broadening, Miakoda, Maiden of the Moonhart says, "It would seem Isotta is practicing again."
Aspirant Vorbur, of the Hart says, "Isotta?"
"Oh?" Lehki exclaims quizzically.
Mnemosyne, riding Caelan the polar cub, holds the Flame of dae'Seren aloft and an emerald light shines forth, revealing a hazy hallway of ancient trees. As Mnemosyne, riding Caelan the polar cub, walks through the hallway, the trees close around her and disappear.
A centaur hunter says, "Good hunting, warrior."
Slowly, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg asks, "Who is that?"
Ryylaet flaps his arms madly.
"Uhh..." stalls Lehki.
Lehki leaves to the north, emanating an aura of immense power.
With a final grunt, Uabhar bounds off to the north with authority.
Miakoda, Maiden of the Moonhart says, "Isotta is the naiad who watches over the fireflies. Amongst other things."
High Wisdom Ryylaet Talnara, Selenomanic Sophophiliac asks, "Isotta? Is she playing with her fireflies?"
(Serenwilde): Lehki says, "Isotta tends the firefly pool."
Aeldra taps her nose thoughtfully.
Sparkling motes of bright light surround the Moonhart Mother Tree.
The smell of wildflowers wafts past your nose.
A white, angry pony with blue feathered wings trundles off to the north.
Waddling off to the north, a frisky puppy gives a sharp yap of excitement as she departs.
Demartel arrives from the south.
A centaur hunter says, "Hail, student of Eurytus."
Demartel leaves to the north.
A centaur hunter nods briefly at Demartel as he leaves.
Comprehension flashing across her features, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Ah, I see. I like fireflies. They look so cheerful and bright."
A sleek snow phoenix with wings of sapphire ice perks up her ears, then dashes off to an unheard summons.
Aerdureth's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.
Golas steps out of the Moonhart Mother Tree, trailing sparkling motes of light.
A moon maiden flashes Golas a joyous smile.
A fierce timberwolf turns its head suddenly, listens for a moment, and then rushes off.
Vorbur flashes Aerdureth a joyous smile.

// going to the place where isotta is
You shed lunar demigoddess form and flow as a spirit through the verdant leaves, embracing the physical once more and arrive at a serene glade.
A centaur hunter taps his forehead with his spear as you leave.
A serene glade.
Surface rippling ever slightly with the wind, a luminescent pool rests at the centre of the glade, 14 fireflies glowing within. Vainly brushing her long hair, Isotta of the White Hands sits here. An oak sapling clings tenaciously to the ground here. Reaching up as high as the eye can see looms the awesome presence of a living totem. A massive stag stands here proudly, exuding a quiet confidence. A white, angry pony with blue feathered wings stands here quietly. A frisky puppy sits on her haunches, her little tail wagging against the ground. High Wisdom Ryylaet Talnara, Selenomanic Sophophiliac lingers here, his skin aglow with a silver incandescence. He wields an athame dagger in his left hand and the Archives of the Moon in his right. Druid Lehki Mes'ard is here. He wields a glowing powerstone in his left hand and a mystic cudgel in his right.
You see a single exit leading southeast.
You have recovered equilibrium.
Her blush deepening, Isotta of the White Hands says, "...really?"
Lehki nods his head sagely.
Isotta of the White Hands's smile broadens at the sudden gathering of people.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says to Ryylaet, "You agree, right."

Aerdureth tells Aeldra, "Uhm...where did you go?"
High Wisdom Ryylaet Talnara, Selenomanic Sophophiliac asks, "I. Maybe? Agree to what?"
Aeldra tells Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg, "To the serene glade. moonbeam to me?"
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says to Ryylaet, "That the singing sounded lovely."
A beam of moonlight comes down from the sky and bathes Aeldra in light.

Aeldra asks Isotta of the White Hands, "Was it your music that we heard, then?"
Aerdureth dances down a moonbeam and alights gently on the ground.
Aerdureth curtseys gracefully.
High Wisdom Ryylaet Talnara, Selenomanic Sophophiliac says, "Oh, absolutely! I felt drawn to find more of it."
Dusting off her robes, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "I am sorry...it took my some time to find this location."
Clearly delighted, Isotta of the White Hands even stills her hands, placing the comb to one side and her lambent hands into her lap. "It was, yes," replies, brightly.

The light cloud cover develops further, bathing the firmament in a white blanket.
The musky scent of loam and leaves fills you with vibrancy.
Aeldra says to Aerdureth, "You managed though!"
Isotta of the White Hands says, "Well, since you're all here..."
Seeming slightly out breath, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says to you, "Yes, thank you for the tip with the moonbeams."
Aerdureth curtseys gracefully before Isotta of the White Hands.
Isotta of the White Hands hums a soft tune to herself and flutters her eyelashes at Aerdureth.
"...could I have some help with something?" Isotta of the White Hands asks as she tilts her head, turning her comb over in her hands.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says, "Always happy to lend a hand."
Nodding with a smile, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Of course!"
Isotta of the White Hands's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.
Shadows grow longer in anticipation for the return of their dark mistress as Father Sun's chase brings him closer to the world's edge.
Aeldra asks, "What would you need, Isotta?"
Isotta of the White Hands says, "It's just that it's ever so long since someone has helped me with words for a new song, and, well..." She trails off, a frown marring her features. "I would like to write a song for someone."
You see the following people here:
Ryylaet, Lehki, Aerdureth, Aeldra.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says to Isotta of the White Hands, "For anyone in particular?"
Lehki's eyes sparkle with amusement.
Turning her violin in her hands, smiling fondly, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Oh, songs are great if you want to get a message across to others. They are a nice medium for conveying your feelings."
Aeldra says, "Maybe there's something we can do there. We have a few very capable bards among ourselves, I believe."

Lifting one luminescent hand, Isotta of the White Hands brushes at the surface of the pool. As the ripples die out, the light playing upon the water's surface shifts to display a perfect image of a tall elfen with thick brown hair cropped at the nape. The image is as vivid as a reflection.
As the sun passes below the horizon's edge, Mother Night unveils her terrible, shadowy beauty, spreading darkness across the land.
Frowning, Isotta of the White Hands says, "Something has hurt him very deeply. He tries to hide it, when he comes to visit, but..."
A white, angry pony with blue feathered wings trundles off to the southeast.
Waddling off to the southeast, a frisky puppy gives a sharp yap of excitement as she departs.
Lehki frowns at a luminescent pool.
At first glance, this pool appears like any other pool that one might find within a glade in the forest. What is different, however, is the ever present luminescence that lights up its watery surface. The colour of the pool is also of note: a lovely translucent blue, dotted with bright specks of light when one gazes deep below the surface. Gentle breezes often ruffle the pool's surface, sending small ripples rolling to the banks.
Isotta of the White Hands says, "He pretends to be happy when he's here, but the trees can tell otherwise."
Aeldra studies the reflection in the pool, her features displaying a frown.
Aerdureth steps closer to the pool, her expression thoughtful as she contemplates the reflection.
At Isotta of the White Hands's gentle gesture, the image in the pool pans out, until the ranger can be seen in his entirety, knelt before a well-tended campfire.
Seeker of the Moon, Geolith, a newbie in the Free Alliance of Serenwilde, has left Lusternia.
Aeldra asks Isotta of the White Hands, "And you wish for your sound to bring him happiness? or do you rather seek to let him allow see how he really feels?"
Aeldra tilts her head slightly, trying to comprehend the reflection.
Isotta of the White Hands ponders the situation.
Across the heavens, the stars and moon challenge night's dark reign, revealing familiar constellations that tell the tales of myth and legend.
Nodding at the other faeling, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Those are indeed interesting questions."
Isotta of the White Hands says, "I do not believe that a brief moment of happiness is as true as the happiness that grows from resolution."
Comprehension flashes across Aerdureth's face.
Idly moving her fingers through the plume of her eagle, Aeldra asks, "So it is more that your song should more be an inspiration for him?"
Unblooded Majurad, a newbie in the Free Alliance of Serenwilde, has entered Lusternia.
Isotta of the White Hands pauses, frowning again. "He does not like to talk about what is wrong." Her fingers move constantly over the pearl comb clutched within them, betraying just how upset she is. "So I cannot be sure."
Unblooded Majurad, a newbie in the Free Alliance of Serenwilde, has left Lusternia.
Aeldra nods herr head slowly in understanding.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
An errant breeze washes Caedir's image from the pool, and it is replaced by specks of light shed by the fireflies within.
Absent-mindedly plucking at the strings of her violin, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Hmm...that is a difficult situation. I am sure, a song of any kind would lighten it up a bit but if it was tailored to the situation, it would be even better."
Showing that she understands, Isotta of the White Hands nods her head slowly.
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Aeldra asks, "Maybe we would help you compose a song that has both the purpose of inspiration and a guiding to hsi own path to himself, if we can manage such a feat?"
Aerdureth beams broadly at Aeldra.
Perking up slightly, Isotta of the White Hands says, "I...I like that idea. But we would need to work out what sort of path it is he wants to take." Cheeks darkening, she adds, "it is not as if we can just ask him to help compose the song."
Shrugging her hands apologetically, Aeldra says, "My musical talent is about that of a hedgehog in winter, so I can not assess such a thing."
Aeldra ponders the situation.
Isotta of the White Hands glances wryly at Aeldra and hides a grin behind her hand
Looking to the ground, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "I will do my best to help but I have never composed something serious before. Just little whimsical things. If you want, I could give you an example."
Aeldra asks Isotta of the White Hands, "Do you think we could somehow learn of the path he seeks?"

Midnight shadows coalesce around a new day, and Mother Night embraces the land in utter darkness.
It is now the 21st of Dioni, 435 years after the Coming of Estarra.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Isotta of the White Hands furrows her brow in thought, then freezes still all of a sudden. Her eyes widen, and she lets out a breathy, "Oh...oh dear."
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Barely a step can be heard as Caedir Aormeah strides in from the southeast.
Aerdureth blinks.
Aerdureth curtseys gracefully before Caedir Aormeah.
Caedir Aormeah leans casually against a rowan tree and raises an eyebrow at the naiad. "In my experience," he remarks idly, "if one wants to have a conversation about someone, one had best not do it within earshot of their camp."
Isotta of the White Hands blushes furiously.
Aeldra blinks.
"Heh heh heh" Lehki chuckles.
In a low voice, Caedir Aormeah says, "...certainly not after getting their attention with so fine a song."
Aerdureth's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.
Aeldra inclines herr head politely to Caedir Aormeah.
You turn quickly as a twig snaps behind you.

An air of quiet confidence can be seen in the bearing of this tall elfen, whose stands with shoulders in a slight, permanent hunch. His thick brown hair is cropped at his nape and left loose, the front strands falling attractively into his eyes, which are a warm hazel flecked with gold. Weathered lines of wear and tear mar Caedir's olive green skin and give him the appearance of an almost permanent quirk to the corner of his thin lips. Clearly dressed for a life out in the forest, he sports a rough pair of dark brown trousers with a similarly coloured leather coat that swings down to his knees. His black shirt tucks into his pouch-laden belt and hangs open at the neck to reveal wiry hair over well-defined muscle. A single shortsword hangs at his hip, secured in an elaborately etched scabbard of green leather.
Caedir Aormeah looks to be crushingly strong.

Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Isotta of the White Hands draws her comb through her hair and averts her eyes, almost glowing with embarrassment. Occasionally her eyes dart up to the ranger's with overwhelmed intensity. "I...ahm..."
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Nodding his head to the rest of you, Caedir Aormeah takes a step towards Isotta. "Your concern is appreciated," he says, softly. "But not needed. I assure you, I am quite well."

An owl hoots off in the distance.
Aerdureth looks from Isotta to Caedir, unsure about what to say. Trying to look occupied, she fiddles with the strings of her violin.
Aeldra says to Caedir Aormeah, "It is part of the duty of us all to look out for one another."
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Placing one hand upon the grass, Isotta of the White Hands says, "The trees disagree. They haven't forgotten the years you spent tending to them, and they are worried about you."
In a swirl of blue fire, a gentle spirit stag leaps out of the Flame of dae'Seren upon Lehki and prances in a slow circle before fading.

As if she were drawing strength from the earth, Isotta of the White Hands loses some of her flustered appearance, lifting her head to look at Caedir almost challengingly.
Caedir Aormeah opens his mouth as if to say something, but pauses.
The Drums of the Dead begin to thump, their pounding and erratic beats raising a black mist that hangs eerily over the Glomdoring Forest.

Caedir Aormeah says, "I have not been part of the Hartstone for many decades. Not since - I left the last time."
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Lehki's ears perk up with a sudden interest.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Tilting her head slightly towards Caedir, Aeldra says, "It seems the trees do have not forgotten you still. I would wager their memory is longer and deeper then ours."
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Isotta of the White Hands nods her head at Aeldra.

Lehki nods his head at Isotta of the White Hands, showing his acceptance.
Isotta of the White Hands says to Caedir Aormeah, "Just because you left the Hartstone doesn't mean you stopped being one."
Aerdureth nods her head emphatically.
Isotta of the White Hands says to Caedir Aormeah, "Just like you never stopped being one of the Serenguard."
Placing her hands on the bark of the neared tree, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Trees never forget kindness."
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Caedir Aormeah lowers his head and lets out a low, resonant chuckle. "On that I shall have to trust to your wisdom," he replies. "For you know them far better than I ever did, or could hope to."
A wry smile spreads across Isotta of the White Hands's face.

The wind whistles eerily through the trees.
Isotta of the White Hands says to Aerdureth, "Isn't he excellent at changing the topic?"
Isotta of the White Hands's eyes twinkle enchantingly at Caedir Aormeah.
Seren Brave Holbe, a newbie in the Free Alliance of Serenwilde, has entered Lusternia.
The sky lightens and stars fade as Father Sun approaches the horizon in his neverending quest to capture Mother Night.
Aerdureth nods her head emphatically.
Aeldra beats her wings slightly, looking back and forth between Isotta and Caedir.

A small red squirrel scampers in from the southeast.
Caedir Aormeah gives a pained sigh.
A small red squirrel scampers out to the southeast.
A light smattering of clouds now covers the sky.
The musky scent of loam and leaves fills you with vibrancy.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.

Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Tilting her head to one side, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says to Caedir Aormeah, "Sighing people are usually unhappy with something."
Caedir Aormeah takes a step closer to Isotta. Sweeping his coat out behind him, he takes a seat next to her and crosses one leg underneath the other. The naiad's eyes dart over him, as if hyper-aware of how close he is. "I will deal with my problems in my own time," he says, softly. "I give you my word that it is nothing that can be solved any other way."
Isotta of the White Hands furrows her brow in thought.

Aerdureth ponders the situation.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Her brows furrowing, Aeldra says to Caedir Aormeah, "Your problems are your own of course, but you are part of this community and as such we are here to help you, should you wish or need it."
Caedir Aormeah nods his head at Aeldra.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Hesitantly, Isotta of the White Hands says, "If you're sure. But Caedir, I -."
Aerdureth nods her head at Aeldra.
Interrupting smoothly, Caedir Aormeah says, "You were singing, before."
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Isotta of the White Hands pauses halfway through her sentence, the blush that had only just faded from her cheeks fast returning. "I...was."

Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
The musky scent of loam and leaves fills you with vibrancy.
Lehki nods his head emphatically.
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Aerdureth looks from Isotta to Caedir, her wings fluttering as she observes the conversation.
Seren Brave Holbe, a newbie in the Free Alliance of Serenwilde, has left Lusternia.
Reaching over, Caedir Aormeah stills Isotta's hands and runs his thumbs over their lambent palms with the reverence of one beholding Moon herself. "You were singing for me?"
The smell of wildflowers wafts past your nose.
With a barely audible hitch in her breath, Isotta of the White Hands says, "I was worried about you. The trees were...were worried."

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Caedir Aormeah's lips.
Very softly, Caedir Aormeah says, "Sing it again."
Glorious rays of morning light burst forth from Father Sun's crown as it peeks over the world's edge, announcing a bright and shining new dawn.
Aeldra nods herr head at Caedir Aormeah, showing herr acceptance.
Aerdureth turns to Isotta, her ears perking up at the mention of a songs. Her gaze bright, she says, "Oh, yes, please. I would love to hear it."

Aeldra murmurs, "I was about to suggest that but I didn't want to interrupt her conversation."
Isotta of the White Hands glances up at the rest of you in disbelief, then back down at their joined hands. Slowly, hesitantly, she begins to sing.
Aerdureth nods her head at Aeldra.
Aeldra smiles warmly upon Isotta.
Aerdureth beams broadly at Isotta of the White Hands.
Isotta of the White Hands flutters her eyelashes at Aerdureth.
Aeldra says to Isotta of the White Hands, "It was very beautiful, I am sure you can perform it again and enchant us all."
There are no words to the song that echoes through the forest: it does not need them. Redolent and soft all at once, it echoes through the eaves and trunks with lilting melancholy, evoking the feeling of a heart heavy with burdens.
With that Aeldra makes herself comfortable on the head of her eagle, her head tilted slightly, listening to Isotta.
Aerdureth takes her violin, trying to replicate the melody she just heard. After a few strokes of the bow, she pauses, looking thoughtful.

As the song continues, a faint wash of ethereal light can be seen upon all things, as if the power of the reflected forest was for a short moment overlaid with its prime form. Eventually it fades, the melancholy melody transforming into a hopeful cadence that echoes for some time thereafter.
Looking at her instrument, a happy smile on her lips, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg murmurs, "This is so beautiful that I cannot replicate it."
Isotta of the White Hands tilts her head down as she finishes singing, turning her head away.
The Guardian Drachou rises up out of the city of Gaudiguch, his great, prismatic wings raining motes of energy down upon the city.
Aeldra blinks her eyes several times, obviously lost in the remnants of the song.
You see a deer wander through a clearing in the distance.
With dazed eyes, Aeldra whispers, "This was amazing, in lack of a better word to describe it."
Aerdureth slowly flexes her fingers, as if they were itching to take to the strings again.
Staring at the naiad in an enraptured daze, Caedir Aormeah lets out a slow, ragged breath. "Isotta," he murmurs, lifting one hand to tilt her chin back towards him. "Why do you hide it?"
Nodding, her expression slightly dreamy, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "Indeed. I could not have said it better."

Blinking widely, Isotta of the White Hands says, "Hide it?"
Isotta of the White Hands chuckles in disbelief. "What you are. What you really are." He trails his thumb along her jawline, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time.
The sun reaches the zenith of the firmament, pausing in his quest to allow the land to bask in his shining golden rays.
Caedir Aormeah chuckles in disbelief. "What you are. What you really are." He trails his thumb along her jawline, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time.
The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Isotta of the White Hands's lips.
Aeldra tells Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg, "I kind of feel like we are superflous at this point and should scramble."

Softly, Isotta of the White Hands says, "I don't. Sometimes, people just can't see what's in front of them, because they're so busy seeing what they expect."
You see a deer wander through a clearing in the distance.
Aeldra tells Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg, "Meaning I have a hunch those two might need a bit of time to themselves. What do you think?"
Aerdureth tells Aeldra, "Yes...that might be. They really seem to be very fond of each other. And I would hate to disturb such a reunion."
Lehki tilts his head and listens intently.
The glittering dome of light surrounding New Celest shimmers with power as the star high above sparkles ever brighter.
Aerdureth tells Aeldra, "I just have no idea how to explain that to them without sounding too obvious."

Caedir Aormeah blinks, starting as if realising just where he is and what he is doing. He looks away, then back at Isotta. "I..." he stammers in an unusual loss of composure. "I have to go." But before he makes a hasty exit, he presses his lips softly against the naiad's cheek, causing her to let out a gasp of surprise.
Turning on his heel, Caedir Aormeah strides southeast, making nary a sound.

Aeldra hops quietly onto the back of her eagle.
Isotta of the White Hands opens her mouth as if to say something, but pauses.
Aerdureth blinks.
Aeldra blinks.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says, "Oh my..."
Hopping from tree to tree, a small green frog enters from the southeast.
Touching one hand to her cheek in disbelief, Isotta of the White Hands says, "...you mortals are so very, very strange. Wonderful. But so very strange."
A squirrel skitters through the treetops somewhere above.

Aerdureth tries to hide a grin behind her hand.
Detaching from its tree trunk, a small green frog leaps out to the southeast.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says, "We try our best."
Isotta of the White Hands says, "I, um."
Isotta of the White Hands shuffles her feet uneasily.
Rhisani, a newbie in the Free Alliance of Serenwilde, has entered Lusternia.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says to Isotta of the White Hands, "But that Caedir though, huh?"
Aeldra says to Isotta of the White Hands, "I may believe that caedir will be able to recover just fine from what is hurting him with your help, Isotta."
Slowly, staring in the direction where Caedir vanished, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "That was quite the exit."

Blushing, Isotta of the White Hands exclaims, "But we still don't know what's wrong!"
The Portal of Fate flashes as Vylkia steps through, now ready to begin a fresh life in Lusternia.
Aerdureth ponders the situation.
Aeldra says to Isotta of the White Hands, "Maybe he'll reveal to you now, when we have all scrambled."
Aerdureth nods her head emphatically.
A soft smile on her lips, Aeldra says, "Your song seems to have drawn him out of this shell he's hiding, I am sure you'll be able to reach out to him again."

Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg smiles and says, "Maybe, it is something that needs a quiet place."
Isotta of the White Hands places one hand on the ground, tilting her head as if listening. "The trees can't tell where he is. I think he must have gone into the hills, or further away." She frowns. "Did I do something wrong?"
Continuing the hunt for his dark mate, Father Sun presses forward in his journey, lowering himself in the sky yet
still casting even, full light upon the land.

Aeldra says to Isotta of the White Hands, "Not at all, you haven't. I think he may need a little time, but am sure he'll return to you."
Lehki nods his head emphatically.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says, "He probably needs a little time to cool down."
Shaking her head, a soft smile on her lips, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "No, I don't think so. You acted true to your heart and let your voice give shape to your feelings. I think that was wonderful."
Isotta of the White Hands says, "To - to me? Oh. Oh..."

Aeldra nods herr head at Aerdureth, showing your acceptance.
Lehki nods his head emphatically.
The smell of wildflowers wafts past your nose.

Aeldra says to Isotta of the White Hands, "I believe you have the key to help him in what he needs to heal. And if you find upon something you have no answer to, you can always rely on us, Isotta."

Aerdureth nods her head emphatically.
Isotta of the White Hands flashes Aeldra a joyous smile.
Patting her violin, Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg says, "And I shall do my best to become better at playing so I might be able to accompany you in the future, if you want."
Isotta of the White Hands claps her hands together merrily.
Aeldra beam broadly.

Aeldra says, "I have to depart now though."
Isotta of the White Hands says, "I would love that! Miakoda sings with me, usually, but I've never sung with someone playing before."
Aeldra says to Isotta of the White Hands, "Best of luck to you, I am sure you'll succeed."
AEldra inclines herr head politely to those around her.
The smell of wildflowers wafts past your nose.
Aerdureth beams broadly at Isotta of the White Hands.
Isotta of the White Hands flutters her eyelashes at Aerdureth.
Isotta of the White Hands waves goodbye at you.
Aerdureth curtseys gracefully before Aeldra.
Oaylee Aerdureth, Hullad Veg smiles and says to Aeldra, "Take care and rest well."
Aeldra hugs Aerdureth compassionately.
Aeldra says, "Be well!"
Aerdureth hugs Aeldra compassionately.
Druid Lehki Mes'ard says, "I'm sure you two would make quite a musical duo."

Aerdureth

// This is how it went on

With white-feathered wings outspread, a giant noble eagle soars out majestically on air currents to 

the southeast.

Deep in thought, Lehki leans his cheek on his hand.

Smiling shyly, Aerdureth says, "I really need to become better though."

Aerdureth asks, "Would you like to hear an example of my current work?"

Lehki urges Aerdureth onwards.

Isotta of the White Hands says, "Oh, yes. It will be good practice for you. Practice is important."

Isotta of the White Hands tilts her head and listens intently to Aerdureth.

"An incy wincy dragon flew through the aetherspace." Aerdureth sings, as ancient harmonies rise from a 

maplewood violin wreathed in ivy.

"Then came a ship and shot him with much grace." Aerdureth sings, playing a maplewood violin wreathed in 

ivy.

"Then came a slivven and tried to eat the crew." Aerdureth sings, playing a maplewood violin wreathed in 

ivy.

"But when it was killed, she ship flew around anew." Aerdureth sings, playing a maplewood violin wreathed 

in ivy.

With a flourish of her arm, Aerdureth bows deeply.

Isotta of the White Hands gives a trillingly melodic laugh.

Slowly, Aerdureth says, "That was not very serious though..."

Druid Lehki Mes'ard says, "A thrilling tale of aetherspace adventures."

Isotta of the White Hands says, "Oh, I think it's wonderful. Not every song is meant to be serious. 

Happiness isn't always serious."

Nodding to herself, Aerdureth says, "I shall compose more dignified songs."

Aerdureth's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.

Scratching her head, Aerdureth says, "I have a slightly more serious one as well though."

Isotta of the White Hands tilts her head and listens intently.

"Once upon a time, there stood a forest pure and tall." Aerdureth sings, as ancient harmonies rise from a 

maplewood violin wreathed in ivy.

"Many brave and just people were proud to call it their home," Aerdureth sings, while a maplewood violin 

wreathed in ivy plays shimmering harmonies.

"While from them the enemies would headlessly flee and fall." Aerdureth sings, playing a maplewood violin 

wreathed in ivy with fresh new tunes.

"Fearsome were its warriors, their blades shining like the Moon," Aerdureth sings, thumping a lively rhythm 

on a maplewood violin wreathed in ivy.

"Wise were its druids, making barren lands flourish and bloom," Aerdureth sings, as joyous sounds ring out 

of a maplewood violin wreathed in ivy.

 

"Stealthy were its monks, their presence not known to their prey," Aerdureth sings, as a maplewood violin 

wreathed in ivy sounds with a galloping beat.

"Faithful were its wiccans, leading the fae on their rightful way," Aerdureth sings, playing a maplewood 

violin wreathed in ivy with a glorious harmony.

"Skilled were its bards, their songs telling about the forest's might." Aerdureth sings, playing a rousing 

march on a maplewood violin wreathed in ivy.

 

"This forest we call Serenwilde, on which the silver Moon shines bright." Aerdureth sings, as the rhythmic 

melodies of the seasons ring from a maplewood violin wreathed in ivy.

With a flourish of her arm, Aerdureth bows deeply.

Isotta of the White Hands applauds heartily, sending shards of ethereal light spilling over the 

glade.

Aerdureth beams broadly.

Lehki gives Aerdureth a thumbs up.

Smiling broadly, Isotta of the White Hands says, "You have such a lovely voice."

Lehki closes his eyes and inhales deeply, absorbing the scent of his surroundings.

Blushing slightly, Aerdureth says, "Thank you very much. I...uhm... have not sung very often yet in fear 

that I might not sound like I want to."

Isotta of the White Hands nods solemnly.

Druid Lehki Mes'ard says to Aerdureth, "It was lovely."

Lehki nods his head emphatically.

Isotta of the White Hands says, "Practice doesn't just make you better, it also helps you to learn 

and remember that people want to hear you sing."

Aerdureth smiles and nods.

Aerdureth smiles broadly and says, "I shall keep that in mind. One day, I would to become a well known bard.

"

Druid Lehki Mes'ard says to Isotta of the White Hands, "It was lovely to hear you singing again as 

well. I have to be off, but it seems that Aerdureth should be able to cover any musical help you 

still need."

Lehki pats Aerdureth in a friendly manner.

Isotta of the White Hands says, "Oh! Don't let me keep you. I should, um. Well, I'm not really sure 

what I am meant to do now."

Isotta of the White Hands raises her hand to her mouth and titters girlishly.

Aerdureth smiles and says to Lehki, "Thank you, Sir. I shall do my best. Please take care."

The corners of Aerdureth's mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

Druid Lehki Mes'ard says to Isotta of the White Hands, "Just think it over for now. He probably just 

needs to cool down a little after that exchange."

Lehki waggles his eyebrows suggestively at Isotta of the White Hands.

Isotta of the White Hands flutters her eyelashes at Lehki.

Isotta of the White Hands blushes furiously.

Aerdureth nods her head at Lehki.

Lehki inclines his head politely to those around him.

Lehki leaves to the southeast, emanating an aura of immense power.

With a final grunt, Uabhar bounds off to the southeast with authority.

Aerdureth curtseys gracefully.

Touching her cheek again, Isotta of the White Hands says, "I think I may need some time to accept 

this all really happened."

An owl hoots off in the distance.

Aerdureth nods her head slowly in understanding.

Smiling encouragingly, Aerdureth says, "I am sure everything will turn out well."

Isotta of the White Hands flashes Aerdureth a joyous smile.

Isotta of the White Hands says, "And I am sure that you can do anything you put your mind to, 

including becoming one of the world's most famous bards. But don't let me keep you - I'm sure you 

have lots of things to be doing. Important barding things."

An impish grin creeps over Isotta of the White Hands's face as her eyes light up with mischief.

Aerdureth smiles and says, "I shall do my best! Maybe, it is time to sit down and talk to the Voice again. 

Thank you very much for your kind words. I wish you all the best. And should you want somebody to 

accompany you, you can always ask me. Hopefully, I will be better at playing until then."

Isotta of the White Hands nods her head enthusiastically.

Aerdureth says, "Take care, m'lady."

Aerdureth curtseys gracefully before Isotta of the White Hands.

Isotta of the White Hands hums a soft tune to herself and flutters her eyelashes at Aerdureth.