Regarding the Father of Time

Log Info

• Title: In Regards to the Father of Time

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Simony

• Place: Memorial Gardens

Memorial Gardens, late evening.

It's only two and a half hours before the turn of midnight on Alexandria, but there are plenty that are out and about on this Ceriday night. The Memorial Gardens, due to their proximity to the bustling markets and adjacent businesses, see their fair share of people as a result.

Cor'lana Lúpecyll-Atlon is on her way home. Dressed in black, she blends in well with the dark of the night, but the stars of the sky above and the gentle light of manalamps proves to give her plenty of light, as well as the fact that there's a certain white raven on her shoulder. Unlike another occasion where she was dressed in the color of mourning recently, her face is not wholly so gloomy as much as it is determined, a certain sort of spark coming to play in her violet eyes.

"Snacks?" Pothy asks quietly.

"We have snacks at home, Pothy. I think your favorite bakery here is shut for the evening," Cor'lana replies. She keeps walking.

Simony slowly walks along through the park, traveling along the main pathways, her wooden sandals making a click-clack sound along the cobblestones. She seems quite lost in thought, her gaze having a far away look, but angled downwards. Clutched in her arms is her ubiquitous notebook, a pencil is stuck in her right ear.

Her head cants slightly and she looks up, spying the darkly clad woman head of her. The voices are what make the Goblin pause. she sniffles and clears her throat."

"Lady Lúpecyll-Atlon?", she wonders softly before stepping a little closer. Simony offers a bow. "How are you faring?"

Cor'lana slows in her steps as she's addressed, turning to face the Navosian cleric. There's a moment where the determination in her eyes remains, but then it shifts to a more polite and neutral look, a small smile finding her face to complement the shift. "I am Lady only to some, Simony," she replies. "Cor'lana will do."

Pothy peers at Simony just a little. "Navos," he says in that reverent voice that he used before when Lana and Pothy both met Simony for the first time. This is followed with the happy wag of raven tails that he's so given to.

"I am well as can be," Cor'lana replies, "given that I am returning from the Temple of Vardama from mourning. I trust you are well."

"Okay, I will happily call you Cor'lana. But you are a lady to me, I will use formal language in a formal setting, I would not wish to cause you embarrassment." Simony smiles then, and giggles lightly at the Raven's tail wag, "Good evening to you to Pothy." Her hand goes into the bag at her hip, and from it she pulls a peanut, still in its shell, which she holds out for the bird to have. "I have a snack for Pothy."

Her expression falls lightly, "My condolences for your loss. I also feel poorly that I could not render aid the other night, I got pulled away in the erm... excitement."

"I am well, thank you very much for inquiring. I have gone on a number of guild missions recently, and they have been successful, and surprisingly, survived by everyone who went out. I am currently helping Magpie and others with research and study."

Pothy happily flaps down from Cor'lana's shoulder to take the snack, snatching it from her fingers and landing down on the ground to consume the legume. Cor'lana's eyes and smile flicker a little in a more genuine happiness as she looks at the display before her, but then she returns her attention to Simony and offers a small nod. "What happened was no one's fault, save for the two wearing other people's faces," she says. "I anticipated being targeted for everything that has gone on. Yet I will allow none to badger me into silence and hiding. What you saw the other day was myself at my most vulnerable--a woman consumed with grief that was stoked into a white-hot rage. I am now no longer on fire as I was. Only determined."

She looks at Pothy for a moment as he finishes splitting open the peanut and consuming the treats inside. "I found myself on a Guild assignment the other night as well," she says. "Aside from a small injury, I was well. I am glad that you and your cohorts have managed to, so far, survive."

"I do not know how people manage to do this sort of thing for so long. It's upsetting, it hurts, and watching my companions in pain is the worst agony." She lets out a little breath.

"Pothy seems... fixated a little on the fact that I am a Navosian priestess. I sense a story behind that, that I am curious about, but I would not pester you into talking about it."

Her hand goes back into the bag, and she fishes around a bit, before coming back up with another peanut. "I've another, Pothy.", she says, this time putting the peanut onto her shoulder."

Pothy takes the bait. He flaps up onto Simony's shoulder and picks up the peanut, carefully splitting it so that neither ends falls off and he has to go diving for the tasty morsels inside.

Cor'lana, for her part, smirks a little. But just a little. The expression dies quickly when Simony asks for the story behind Pothy's Navos fixation. The sorceress's sober expression is paired with the folding of arms underneath her chest, a slight raise of the chin.

"I can tell it," she says at last. "Pothy is a special bird. He was gifted to an ancestor of mine through my mother's bloodline. This ancestor of mine received 'the gift of Knowledge': arcane power, and Apotheosis, a white raven who was supposed to be a repository of knowledge for the ancestor. All who are descended from this ancestor have the potential to inherit Pothy and to have the power of this bloodline awakened--but, as you can see, he can only be with one person at a time."

Her eyes shift to Pothy. "He was my mother's familiar, but before that, he was her father's familiar--and so on, and so forth. The only way to pass him down is if the previous inheritor has passed on into the Halls and will not be coming back. My running theory is that this ancestor of mine was 'touched' by a servitor of Navos. But whether or not that is the case--Pothy will not tell me. I don't think he can. And I don't know if he remembers, either. His memory past my mother's father starts to get hazy and is... Food-centric, to say the least."

There is more unsaid. But for the moment, a fond smile settles on Cor'lana's face as she looks at Pothy in his happiness.

Simony listens closely at the story as Cor'lana tells it, occasionally glancing at the bird as he delicately works to extract the peanuts from the shell.

"So he is part of the power that runs through your blood? You are, then, a sorcerer? This is an amazing bond you have." She rubs at her cheek lightly, and her attempt to stifle a chuckle fails. "It is not surprising to me that his memories are centered around food."

The Gobbo fishes out a third peanut, "This is the last one I have, but I promise to restock my bag before we meet again, Pothy." This time the nut is left atop her hooded head.

Pothy follows the food. He hops up onto Simony's head, claiming the peanut for his own and carefully doing surgery on it as he did with the others. The careful bird gets the worm. Err, legume.

"It's true. I'm a sorcerer, as is Telamon--although his bloodline is far different from my own and manifests differently than mine." Cor'lana's fond expression maintains with the discussion of her husband, a genuine sort of love and warmth in her words as she mentions him. "Up until I came to Alexandria, I led a lonely..."

She takes a breath that turns more firmly into a sigh. "A lonely life. My mother was in hiding from my father, a sylvanori man. The story for why is far too long and too tragic to recount here--but she took me to Rune as a baby, where she was from, and settled not far from a small village there. Unfortunately, when you live somewhere small where there are no other half-sil..."

"Ignorance," Pothy says softly, having consumed his treat. It's a perfect mimic of Cor'lana's voice.

"Exactly that," Cor'lana says, eyes dark. "Turned into hateful words and unkind fists from other children. I stopped wanting to leave the house. And because we were in hiding... Mother let me stay inside. I hardly ever left. I found my solace in books, and that was when I took up a devotion of my own to your Father of Time, Simony. I thought He would look kindly on me where others did not. And for years, I lived my life that way. Alone, nose stuck in books, with Mother. And... then she died."

THe Gobbo's expression is bright and cheerful, as Pothy hops up to operate on the legume.

Again, she listens, her facial expression rising and falling as Cor'lana's story evolves. She gasps at the end, rubbing at her eyes. "I'm sorry.", she says softly, her voice scratchy.

"While I can only offer sympathy for your mother's passing, I can empathize with finding solace in books. My condition so worried my parents, that they did not let me go outside. The sun would be too much, and people might attack me for my looks. I spent a long time reading, and learning new languages so that I might read other books that previously escaped my ken. My tribe looked down upon books, and so, my share of any spoils of war, or raiding, were the books everyone else thought were useless."

"Ignorance is something we both are familiar with, then," Cor'lana adds softly, a knowing look in her eyes. "As well as solace in the written word. If nothing, I am thankful you have continued to find solace with Navos, enough to be sworn to Him as one of His own. As for I..."

She peers at Pothy. "I did not know that the gods answered prayers until I came here. And I realized how that meant that Navos had never answered mine--not in any way that I could measure. Seldan told me it was because Navos lost Compassion when He became one of the gods of Twilight, and that His followers are expected to be... rather self-sufficient as a result."

Finally, the violet eyes peer down at Simony. "I turned to Vaire. I turned to poetry. And... for the first time, some weeks back, I prayed to Her, and I felt that someone was finally listening. So--while I associate Navos with the pain of my childhood, I must acknowledge that His followers still do good in the world. Such as yourself."

"Yes, ignorance is a terrible thing, and the cause of much suffering." The Goblin nods slowly, before stepping forward to hug at Cor'lana's waist. "I am sorry that you had to go through your childhood not knowing that feeling of being listened to by a deity you were offering prayers to. How cold Navos must seem to you. I am happy for you, though, in finding solace in Vaire. She is compassionate, and fun! Her love must be warmth itself." She sniffles lightly.

"I bear you no ill will, if you dislike my deity, and I am happy that you can find a way to separate my worship from myself. Navos may lack his former compassion, but I am happy to offer my compassion up in his stead. His path is a difficult one to follow, but I will do my best to carry his word, and do good deeds while I live, and have the power to do so."

Cor'lana smiles just a little, patting Simony on the back just once before releasing herself from the hug. "She is what I need now. I do not draw my strength from Her like a cleric would--but I do draw my faith from her. And it is less that I dislike Navos--it's more like a bitter association. One that will grow less and less bitter over time until it fades more fully into neutrality, as... Well, time heals all things, and Time is His domain."

She clicks her tongue, and Pothy returns to her shoulder. She offers Simony a nod. "I must return to my home and my husband," she says. "Vaire's verse in your heart, Simony."

So the sorceress departs, Pothy murmuring about snacks in her ear, into the night.