The Next Morning: "What A Wild Dream"
Waking up is bizarre. The day before feels fuzzy, unreal, but it was real. Wherever you fell asleep is where you wake up. There is a burning on your wrist, faint but aching, that turns into mild warmth.
Runes
You have been marked by the paragon. There is a soothing feeling of warmth when you notice the mark; an embrace.
Rings of Fate: Three interconnected rings.
Circumstances that connect people. We combine different elements - parts of us - to create something new.
Restorative : Tidal low curve with masculine shape.
Traditional masculine characteristics of action, fatherly, protection, providing. Restorative destruction of fire or winter.
Expend : Tidal high curve with feminine shape.
Traditional feminine characteristics of cunning, nurturing, creating. Rising of tides and usage of energy.
Completion : Scythe.
Sudden changes or endings. Final decisions. Walking away. Palliative care or healing/comfort.
Crossroads : Four arrows in separate directions.
Indecision or lack of movement.
Marked and Gifted
Those of you not marked with the Crossroads have at your feet your promised Familiars: Gifts of the Child Gods. These creatures look up curiously at you, seeming to understand you deeply. They mirror your movements.
The day goes on largely uneventful, and the next, and you eventually make it back to the place you consider home. Or home enough. In fact, nearly a week goes by in this odd newness. The sun rises and sets at the same time, the moons rise and fall. The animals feed and hunt and are hunted. The fish obey the tides. And on Firethday, the 31st of Skelsefest, the day of usual feast, the morning came.
The regions, the towns, had tentatively began preparations for their usual feasts after the funeral. The general mood of the Capitals and the settlements were lively and hopeful. It was bizarre to see so many familiars hobbling around, but many people seemed to be pleased with their boons. Stories of healed loved ones, fertile partners, knowledge unlocked, wisdom about future decisions, and so on and so forth were the talk of taverns all over.
Skelsefeast: The Surprise Feast
The morning of the yearly feast was as happy and exciting as usual. The morning traditions of entire towns waking up to greet the sunrise and guess the mood of the God was a bit interesting, especially since they were not sure whose moods to guess upon. As the sun rose, it was odd to see that the moons themselves did not fall. In fact, they seemed awful close. Some Aven could be seen swirling as high as they could before needing oxygen in the higher atmosphere.
Just as the sun completely rose, there is the shifting of the earth. A low rumbling noise can be heard from deep within the ground. The humming, as sudden as it began, stopped. Another rapture event happens. The Child Gods are standing in the same field; million people, but talking personally to you.
Welcome, welcome. Surprise!
Are you surprised? Good. We hope that you have enjoyed acclimating to your boons and your familiars. Today was usually a day in celebration of our father, and his moody seasons. We'd like to...continue to extend our offers to you, our adopted, little mortals.
There's a gust of wind, and your arms are warmed where the markings have been created.
We understand there are still some who are...hesitant...to choose which of us best suits their needs. That is alright, we do not expect mortals to understand and comphrehend the expanseful knowledge of dieties. And our father was so troublingly absent, we can only imagine the concerns. Like a jar of ants shaken up!
Their combined voices are lyrical and layered beautifully. It does seem that the more talkative beings are louder.
Yet, just like the festivities of the Skelsefest, everyone must pick a side to "root" for. Just so, we the Children of Olvdir, simply invite you to select whom you think is better. A little friendly competition between siblings, you see? What is the saying you do on this day? "There are only winners in surprises?" Hmm. That doesn't sound right. Anyways...let the games begin!
The whirlwind - the shaking of the jar - settles and you find yourself in a foresty settlement. Kipburn. The smells of already cooked food and baked goods fill the air. The passage of time did not seem to affect the heat of the meals, the state of the fires and coalfires of the forges still the same. The largest Dura, Tooth and Nail, still decorated and lit up with light spells and candles.
In fact, the sun dials and the position of the sun and moons (still oddly close) in the sky suggest that no time has passed. However, it is important to note that the people surrounding you are not the same. In fact, the patron at the bar seat next to you is different.