Such has been the status of the wild, once barbaric Celtic warrior-turned-paladin who came through the mists, shunning the Void, and settling in the once verdant land of Sosaria. She's been shut in for so long, that many have a mind to think she is but a legend, and not one of the last keepers of that Spirit which births cities. For such a long time, Kirthag has been an enigma - a haunting of a past which very few even choose to remember - or if they do remember it is sometimes with a foul tongue. Kirthag has shunned them, every single last one, for her huge library and the books within. She had shut everything out - retreating far from civilized company into the wildest parts of Felucca's Yew. Rarely is Pooka called upon to ride the roads and visit the small farmstead. Kirthag's gilded armor growing dull in the armory.
Tandy avoids the Lady Paladin, keeping herself in the woods gathering resources and selling off whatever items she makes to the village merchants. Periodically, the crafter visits the small area set up as Minerva's memorial - missing her mentor more now than ever. Tandy realizes this solitary life in the wild of Felucca is actually nice, a girl good with her hands can be creative without the pressures of fixing armor for wandering fighters or making furnitures for castle decorators. Tandy has even gotten to where she is creating fancy items out of stone and metal - items far surpassing the skill Minerva ever had. But still, the girl misses her teacher and sighs deeply as she sets another precious stone into a golden ring.
The lavender eyes of Katterina, ever crisp and clear, reads over a herbal recipe once again. She silently calculates the portions for filling kegs - as if more are needed filling now. She glances up for a moment, counting the carefully stacked kegs with their carefully marked labels. Then back to the recipe, where magically some script burns into the parchment showing the bulk measurements. Kat hasn't picked up a quill in some time. Aye, a scribe at heart - the very book Kirthag reads is one of Kat's - the elf had been preoccupied with learning new potions, creating beverages, and even cooking up some new edibles. Kat hasn't laid a finger to quill in what feels like eons; instead sharpening her fire magics to burn fine lines to parchment. Committing the calculated recipe to memory, the parchment is magically rolled, tied, and stored back on the shelf of its cataloged location. With a sigh, Kat begins to rummage through tiny boxes and bottles of ingredients.
A soft trill floats into the castle, causing the three women within to pause and listen. The sound is joyful, light, and almost airy to the ear. Kirthag, Tandy, and Kat all pause in that moment, their eyes going blank and distant as the trill turns into a steady undulation of tones. Then, all three head to the stair, their tasks forgotten, transfixed as they step up the stone stairs to the door and through. Eventually, the three meet together at the tapestry of Spirituality which hangs before the stone door to the roof of the castle. Without a word or motion, the door slides silently open. The women duck behind the tapestry to ascent to the open roof of the castle.
Their air is cool and moist, a pre-dawn blanket of dew covers the land. From the flowering garden to the cold stone seats of the guild's meeting area, all is damp upon Caislean Ceilteach. The sound of the ocean in the distance lays a foundation for the light song that now fills the air above the women who move quietly together to the guild meeting area. They all sit, Kirthag at the head of the table with Tandy and Kat each taking a chair next to one another. Within moments, a soft flash of brilliance brings the singer to view. Lark, now always wearing the pure white of her station, walks barefoot over the chilled stone to sit next to Kirthag. Lark's voice, though soft and breathy, fills the air with vibrating tones. The song seems to reach up to the twinkling stars in the night sky which has grown somewhat lighter than a few seconds ago.
Indeed. The coming dawn makes its presence known. The sky changes from the pitchest of black to a more soul-enveloping velvet of the deepest blue. The stars blink as they bow to their sun king, acknowledging his awakening. Lark's voice rises as the sky's hues change. And as the sun crests the horizon line of the eastern seas, a slight ray of golden light rests upon the Virtue Candle upon the table - and lights.
As has been for each sunrise that first breaks upon the Fellucian shores since Kirthag and her entourage have come to Catskills, here now Kirthag DiOrsae, Lark Kohl, Tandy, and Katterina Syl'vanthi greet the new day. A soft smile now resides upon each woman's face as they look at each other with acknowledgment, acceptance, and love. They are happy in one another's presence, and they each know it. Never has a sisterhood been so strong.
"I'd like to take Pooka out for a bit today," Kirthag speaks softly.
The others look toward the Lady Paladin, noting a brightness to her eyes that has long been missing.
"I think that would be wonderful, Kirthag." Kat nods as she speaks.
"Yes, and I think I'll take a visit to the Conservatory in Moonglow. I haven't been there in such a long time," Lark chimes in.
Tandy smiles shyly - she is still uncomfortable in the presence of these powerful and ageless women. Kirthag rests her hand upon Tandy's, "Maybe you'd like me to show you Minerva's favorite mining area up in Minoc?"
Tandy's brown eyes widen with the thought. "Oh! Sure! I'd love that!"
"Get your free beetle ready - you'll need that one for this excursion," Kirthag instructs.
Tandy bounds from the Bringers of Light guild table, bolting to the stair that leads down to the stables.
"She is such a lively one, not like Minerva, eh?" Kirthag mutters.
"We all miss her dour pleasantries, indeed." Kat rises from her chair. "I have a new batch of potions to mix, in bulk now. Will you be needing me?"
Kirthag and Luna also rise from their seats.
"Nae, I'll leave you to it Kat. Just please make sure the smell - "
"- is less pungent this time!" Lark finishes. "I can still smell the results of your last bulk batch in my robes!" Lark makes a face as she sniffs her sleeve.
Kat has already recalled, not waiting for the request at all, simply mouthing the spell as Kirthag gave leave. Luna and Kirthag shrug as they turn eastward to return to the main halls below.
Kirthag stops, staring over the parapet of her castle over the woods and at the sun now fully free from the horizon as it shines over the foggy landscape, turning dew to mist.
"I will never tire of seeing the Sosarian sunrise. Never for so long as I breathe."
Lark looks toward the east as well, feeling the warmth of the morning upon her face. "Why do you think I sing to it every day, Kirth?"
