Fate Weaver's convergence

V2 C93 A priests countenance

"Should those attending be ready, be seated."

The same gravel-filled voice of the elderly man rang out. I looked to the end of the room, to the stage set upon the marble steps at the base of Solah's figure.

Aethelwulf?

An elderly man walked up the steps, robed in gold and mahogany. The sound of hoofs clapping against marble echoed in the now-silent room while he climbed. As he turned, we were all greeted with the figure of a Higher Demon, a Higher Imp to be exact. His skin was drawing, whilst sunken eyes adorned a face framed by white, wiry, shoulder-length hair.

"Before dawn, we drifted. All was dark."

He held out a hand, tracing it along the edge of a pulpit as he took his place and looked over the crowd of attendees.

"With time, the Gods brought their light to us. Tyr flowed his heartbeat back into the land, bringing the forests with it. Once a barren world, now lush with life. Nyx filled the seas and cleared the great fog that obscured the stars, seeding the rebirth of life in each of its forms. Myr returned knowledge of ages lost, our ability to remember. She returned to us our voice, and our love and thoughts to recognize our fellow man. To think.-"

The old goat paused, placing a staff he held into a small nook within the pulpit. He seemed hesitant in his coming words. As if he detested the words he spoke in the breath following.

"Orion, with the hunt, brought the beasts to the fore. The wilds were filled once more, no longer an empty belly for the people to suffer in limbo. He gave the many races their cycle of evolution. And with the beasts, the cycle of life in which we return to them."

Limbo, as we know it, was ended. The flow of life returned to the world."

Aethelwulf looked down for a moment as if relieved at the passing of Orion. He was taxed, his shoulders falling and rising once more as he collected himself. Given everything I experienced since interloping in Kiyomi's life, it wasn't a matter of associating events to understand why. Everyone within the city and surrounding it has a uniquely intimate feeling toward the church of Orion. It was only a few short moments before he raised his head with a greater sense of energy than before.

"Thus we come to the Dawn's birth."

Aethelwulf raised a hand to the ceiling, motioning to the Wyrm that embraced the world in the mural.

"Of each boon that the gods birthed unto the world, Solah brought the final and most volatile."

Aethelwulf lowered his hand, his eyes following his fingers as he did so. He snapped his fingers, prompting abrupt and violent flames to spawn within his palm.

"From her vast maw, she pried her own fangs. Presenting them to man, she bade them to grow and change as their purgatory had."

His focus seemed to be beyond the flames within his palm as he continued, looking, sifting through the crowd of attendees.

"Her fangs brought forth a surge of energy to our world, reenabling our ability to venture forth. To break the structure of one's self-imposed sanctuary. And with that, the ability to tame the world around us."

The flames dissipated, as he lowered his hand, bracing himself with it and taking his staff in his opposite side. He pointed to the crowd.

"I see many a young face. So many have come to pass but a face is never lost to me."

He motioned to the rows opposite our own, across the aisle.

"Come forth as I speak, the recollection shall mark the blessings of you few young. You know yourselves, stand."