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Quoted By: >>6251759
You are Kara, High Priestess of the Starlit Grove, handmaiden to Queen Selanwe, and the spiritual voice of your people.
You remember the last Gathering of Lanterns—the shimmer of silver pollen in the air, the laughter of children riding on currents of magic, the low, gentle hum of the fairies as they blessed the winds. That world, your world, is now behind you. The Otherworld, realm of fae and dream, is doomed.
One of your oldest sages saw it: a demon tide rising, swallowing the edges of reality, bleeding through the cracks in the veil. Even the fairies, eternal and radiant, fear it. No magic in your homeland can stop what is coming.
The Queen could not save the land. But she could save a people.
She chose you.
You knew what it meant. All elves do. Without the blessings of the fairies, your bodies will begin to falter. Long will your lives be, still—but they will now have an end. You will age. You will weaken. You will die.
You accepted.
Three great galleys awaited at the far western shore, vessels of living wood and spell-threaded sails. Each carried three hundred elves. Two wave-masters aboard each ship stirred the sea itself, ensuring safe passage even through storm and whirl.
You brought with you:
30 healers, keepers of body and spirit
12 druids, bearers of the last sacred seeds
300 soldiers, trained to row and ready to fight
The rest—craftsmen, poets, hunters, teachers, dreamers, lovers—all volunteers
Elvish travel bread, rich with dreamhoney and sealed in ferncloth, will feed your people for years.
You crossed the threshold of worlds.
Now you stand on the edge of a new land. A mortal coast. A strange forest of broad-leafed giants. The sun rises on alien birdsong. The rivers gleam with silver, and the soil is dark and alive. You see no humans yet. The land is wild, and still.
At night, the stars do not speak to you here. They are distant. Watching. Silent.
You gathered your people beneath those quiet stars. No one wept. One child asked if the fairies would follow. You told him they would not. But something else would follow—what you choose to make of this new life.
It is time to build.
You remember the last Gathering of Lanterns—the shimmer of silver pollen in the air, the laughter of children riding on currents of magic, the low, gentle hum of the fairies as they blessed the winds. That world, your world, is now behind you. The Otherworld, realm of fae and dream, is doomed.
One of your oldest sages saw it: a demon tide rising, swallowing the edges of reality, bleeding through the cracks in the veil. Even the fairies, eternal and radiant, fear it. No magic in your homeland can stop what is coming.
The Queen could not save the land. But she could save a people.
She chose you.
You knew what it meant. All elves do. Without the blessings of the fairies, your bodies will begin to falter. Long will your lives be, still—but they will now have an end. You will age. You will weaken. You will die.
You accepted.
Three great galleys awaited at the far western shore, vessels of living wood and spell-threaded sails. Each carried three hundred elves. Two wave-masters aboard each ship stirred the sea itself, ensuring safe passage even through storm and whirl.
You brought with you:
30 healers, keepers of body and spirit
12 druids, bearers of the last sacred seeds
300 soldiers, trained to row and ready to fight
The rest—craftsmen, poets, hunters, teachers, dreamers, lovers—all volunteers
Elvish travel bread, rich with dreamhoney and sealed in ferncloth, will feed your people for years.
You crossed the threshold of worlds.
Now you stand on the edge of a new land. A mortal coast. A strange forest of broad-leafed giants. The sun rises on alien birdsong. The rivers gleam with silver, and the soil is dark and alive. You see no humans yet. The land is wild, and still.
At night, the stars do not speak to you here. They are distant. Watching. Silent.
You gathered your people beneath those quiet stars. No one wept. One child asked if the fairies would follow. You told him they would not. But something else would follow—what you choose to make of this new life.
It is time to build.
