>>5894269>>5894282>>5894300>>5894432You successfully tamp down upon your urge to blurt out an objection mid-meeting. You can’t imagine, upon conscious reflection, that would go over well. The Bonum Chaoticum you’re familiar with are truly WILD gods in some respects, hence their nickname, but these Celestial Bonum Chaoticum seem a titch more orderly in their proceedings. It was quite considerate of Princess Mainnie to humour your request to attend such an event, and you’d do well not to violate that trust by immediately stepping out-of-line. Instead, you tap your toe anxiously as the council-meeting comes to a close and the ephemeral energy-shapes of the councillors dissipate. When THAT happens, though, you are immediately up and on your feet, attention fixed on Miannie.
“Goodbye.”
You stop in startlement and look towards the source of the quiet farewell: Mithrel, who is holding his hand up. You return the gesture, embarrassed by your rudeness.
“Right, goodbye. And… Thank you.”
Mithrel merely nods, and turns back to his own activities—apparently not yet concluded, even if the meeting itself may be. You spare him another glance—and really al the lunar eladrin, strange and alien elves that they are—before hurrying to Princess Miannie’s side as she approaches the door whereby the two of you had earlier entered the chamber. She doesn’t hurry off without you, though, but rather waits for you to catch up with your comparatively-small legs.
“Ezreal,” she greets you, when you’ve regained your breath. “You wish to speak with me?”
“How did you--?” you pause, meeting those all-seeing orbs of empty space which serve as the New Moon Goddess’ eyes. “Nevermind. Yes, I do, if that’s okay?”
“Of course,” your benevolent ancestor says. “Let us walk and talk.”
You follow her through the facility, past other eladrin attending to myriad tasks beyond your comprehension, seemingly mostly the extraction transport, or implantation of differently-shaped crystals into slots upon the walls, or staring in silent communion with one another or with their ‘marqs’ upon the walls or held in their hands. Several wave or bow as you pass, though more to Miannie than to you.
“You have strong feelings about the Earth entering n Era of High Magic,” the Princess frankly assesses.
“I AM from there,” you note.
“In a sense,” she replies enigmatically. “A part of you is.”
What? Does she mean to imply your transformed quasi-eladrin state makes you LESS a creature of Earth? Or something else? You put it out of your mind for now, instead nodding and plowing ahead.
