Pathtender's Soul (Clorinthus' Memory)

The fragment of Pathtender reaches out into your minds. "Pluriflor tore me from my body... She manipulates me like an instrument... but in so doing, she has allowed me a glimpse at what lies within..."

You now see through the eyes of a fey you intuitively know to be Chlorinthus. You're standing in a vast archive, the first and greatest of its kind. Shelves of marble containing jars of plant specimens extend as far as the eye can see. This is but one section of a library cataloguing the sum total of fey knowledge. You're holding a stone tablet covered in etchings that shift like the tides. Before you sits true royalty, a vision of grace and humility: Caligra, Mother of Runes. As an Archfey, it's only natural that she's tall, at least twice as tall as you, but unlike her many siblings she has adopted an uniquely sturdy build, akin to the Goliaths in her service. A long green braid rests along her back, and the muscles on her strong blue arms are tensed as she chisels away at her latest work.

"The Clairvoyant, Priestess Jamina, has sent another dove with a message of warning. She says the Ouroboros is upon us. Your own diviners report similar tidings, but are unable to see the path as clearly as she claims to."

Caligra does not look up from her work. "If the Three Eyed Serpent is to swallow the world, what use is a scribe? This is the cycle of things, Chlorinthus. As sure as winter follows autumn, spring will come again."

You frown. A woman of few words, Caligra often has to be prodded into action. This is why she brought you into her service. Your outgoing, risk-taking and charismatic personality compliments her stoicism. You take this role seriously. You want all the courts of the world to see her as you do: a force of true benevolence, a mind sharper than any on this plane or the next, and the embodiment of true beauty.

"Milady, Queen Decidua and King Commelinales have already agreed to entertain the priestess. She has the court of Filicatae behind her as well. The Slumbering Prophet whispers her name. If you ignore this request you may miss the opportunity to influence the coming age."

You put down the tablet and begin walking, gesturing grandly at the unending shelves. "An age of intellect!" you shout, "an age where mortals seek to better understand the world in which they live instead of dominating it! Where the forces of Chaos are not the enemies of Order, but allies! A world that gives eyes to the universe so that it may view itself in all your glory!"

You pause, a grin on your face, glancing sideways at Caligra to see if she noticed your intentional flub. She has indeed finally put down her chisel and turned to look at you. "Chlorinthus," she says softly and sternly.

You lower your arms and turn to her, suddenly unsure what to expect. With a neutral expression she reaches out a hand and brushes your cheek with the back of her fingers, sparkling charcoal irises boring a hole into you. "Are those my ends?" She asks, the shadow of a smile appearing on her lips. "They sound so... significant, coming from you."

You feel yourself blushing, caught off-guard. Caligra smiles openly now. "I wouldn't think one such as yourself would be prone to embarrassment, and yet, every time we lock eyes you gain the complexion of a tulip."

You reach up to touch her hand. You're compelled to glance away for a moment to steel yourself. Like a worker in the field, you harvest the words she has sown along your heart. "When your gaze falls upon me, it feeds something within that yearns to bloom."

The vision ends.