Before you, seated on an immense shell, is unmistakably a god.
Her body is relatively small, but her grasping roots and crown of branches glow with bright power against the darkness of the grotto. They wind their way through the ceiling and walls and floor to make their way outside— and you'd seen the vast bulk of them from outside, but hadn't known what they were.
Now you do.
Hesitantly, you approach. It isn't until you lay one tentative hand against the bindings wrapped all around her that she starts, and opens milky eyes to peer in your direction.
"Oh! One arrives. Far it walks to find me. Did it seek my aid? Or did the path carry it by chance to so pertinent a place? It is true. True, that you were awaited. No. Perhaps that is inaccurate. True one like you was awaited.
...I have a gift, held long for one of your kind. Half of a whole. When united, great power is granted, and on the path ahead, great power it will need."
More light twinkles into being, as she gathers her strength together. It coalesces in one blinding pulse— then drops to the ground, and you hesitantly step forward to pick it up.
It's half of what looks like it might be a charm, all swirling carved lines with hollowed out eyeholes like the ones in your mask. Something in your chest tightens at the resemblance, and you carefully tuck the thing away so you don't have to keep looking at it. You look back up to the White Lady, instead, and she hums.
"Within my roots, the weakening of the Vessel I plainly feel. Only two obvious outcomes there are from such a thing. The first is inevitable on current course: regression, all minds relinquished to that pernicious plague.
The second I find preferable, and would seek your aid in its occurrence— replacement."
...you knew the request was coming. It isn't a surprise. But hearing it still makes you feel like that tightness in you is crushing something vital past repair.
"I implore you, usurp the Vessel. Its supposed strength was ill-judged. It was tarnished by an idea instilled. But you. You are free of such blemishes. You could contain that thing inside. ...I'll offer fair warning. The Vessel may itself be weak, but it is much empowered by that force within. To claim its role requires strength of some magnitude. Prepare yourself well before attempting the task.
Prepare well, but don't dally. Were the Vessel to break prematurely, that plague would unleash with rage and power built of ages chained."
...finished with her plea, her warning, her eyes slide shut again, and she falls silent.
It seems there is nothing else she wants from you but the purpose you were birthed for.
the white lady
Her body is relatively small, but her grasping roots and crown of branches glow with bright power against the darkness of the grotto. They wind their way through the ceiling and walls and floor to make their way outside— and you'd seen the vast bulk of them from outside, but hadn't known what they were.
Now you do.
Hesitantly, you approach. It isn't until you lay one tentative hand against the bindings wrapped all around her that she starts, and opens milky eyes to peer in your direction.
"Oh! One arrives. Far it walks to find me. Did it seek my aid? Or did the path carry it by chance to so pertinent a place? It is true. True, that you were awaited. No. Perhaps that is inaccurate. True one like you was awaited.
...I have a gift, held long for one of your kind. Half of a whole. When united, great power is granted, and on the path ahead, great power it will need."
More light twinkles into being, as she gathers her strength together. It coalesces in one blinding pulse— then drops to the ground, and you hesitantly step forward to pick it up.
It's half of what looks like it might be a charm, all swirling carved lines with hollowed out eyeholes like the ones in your mask. Something in your chest tightens at the resemblance, and you carefully tuck the thing away so you don't have to keep looking at it. You look back up to the White Lady, instead, and she hums.
"Within my roots, the weakening of the Vessel I plainly feel. Only two obvious outcomes there are from such a thing. The first is inevitable on current course: regression, all minds relinquished to that pernicious plague.
The second I find preferable, and would seek your aid in its occurrence— replacement."
...you knew the request was coming. It isn't a surprise. But hearing it still makes you feel like that tightness in you is crushing something vital past repair.
"I implore you, usurp the Vessel. Its supposed strength was ill-judged. It was tarnished by an idea instilled. But you. You are free of such blemishes. You could contain that thing inside. ...I'll offer fair warning. The Vessel may itself be weak, but it is much empowered by that force within. To claim its role requires strength of some magnitude. Prepare yourself well before attempting the task.
Prepare well, but don't dally. Were the Vessel to break prematurely, that plague would unleash with rage and power built of ages chained."
...finished with her plea, her warning, her eyes slide shut again, and she falls silent.
It seems there is nothing else she wants from you but the purpose you were birthed for.
Your mother has nothing else to say to you.