#indrikis

“So this is your Wind Crystal...” her words are breathless with amazement, carried away by the steady breeze surrounding the altar. The subtle thrum of magic beat in tandem with her heart, matching the echoes of her soft, approaching footsteps. A tentative hand reaches out the further she walks, the magic of the Crystal tickling gloved fingertips and cooling her palm. While the crystal before her shared similarities with the one she knew, there was a distinct difference in the energy it exuded. 

The magic here was calmer, lighter. If Agnès could compare the two crystals as seasons, the Wind Crystal back home was similar to the warm breezes of summer; a relieving zephyr in the humid deserts surrounding its home.The Wind Crystal before her felt more like springtime. A fresh breath of renewal after the frigidity of winter. A breeze of promise and approaching growth, kissed with the softness of hope. Given that her companion was recently blessed with this crystal’s power, the comparison did not feel far fetched to the young vestal.

Her footsteps halt before the steps of the altar, her hand retreating to clasp the pendant about her neck. A sudden hesitance gripped her. What would her presence do to this crystal? Would there be an effect? Or would there be an adverse reaction? Her gaze flicker to her companion, her expression now a mix wonder and concern. “It is a wondrous sight, truly. Will...it be alright I approach closer?”

   --- A quiet smile tugged at the cleric's lips. If anything, the elder male had simply only desired a hug. It was in his nature, gentle where others may be cruel. To him, such an embrace was viewed as something so commonplace near enough anyone who was comfortable with him -- and he them -- got one.  “No,“ the thickly accented word fell from his lips, “I am as well as can be,“

Now, despite how typically perceptive elves generally tended to be, there were things that simply tended to escape this one’s attention. Such was the case of the dried apricot that had been ever so sneakily slipped into the palm of his gloved hand. Of course, he’d realise it was there sooner or later, but for now, his attention was focused solely on the younger male, “Ah, you need not wor-ry about me sud-den-ly slip-ping into elvish, my fri-end. I have learn-d much in our time a-part,“

      💎 │       ❛I left a note behind to explain what’s going on. Hopefully they won’t be too mad at me? The Crystals forbid she get mad at me and chase me around the kitchen with a frying pan again!❜ Desch thought thinking with a shiver. Sometime that woman terrified him more than fighting Medusa. Actually he would rather fight Medusa again than fight an angry mother. Let’s digress.

   A week previously Desch had received a letter from Ingus surprising him. The curiosity about the tower, how it kept the Floating Continent afloat, and the inner workings. Despite knowing how to fix the tower himself (somehow). Desch had to admit he was curious about it himself. Due to the millennium long sleep he accidentally took. Thanks to some kind of malfunction that happened while he was sleeping, had degenerated his memories. Damn.

@indrikis wanted a thread!

It was a while before Sylvan saw Ingus again. He found it a bit weird that he was recruited to help organize the next Festival at Florem, given that he was a man and that Florem was traditionally an all-women area.

However, the rules had relaxed since, according to what he knew, and that was...interesting. He was in a library in Florem at the moment, flipping through a book. He blinked, looking up, and then smiled.