Cerulean Cape temporal

the keeper lingered seaside, head bent over a shallow pool filled with darting colorful creatures and encrusted with alien growths along the sides and the stony bottom. the listener watched as he stirred, perhaps sensing her presence. her own greeting, a fleeting kiss as she brushed past his cheek and stepped past him to peer down at the pool that had held his attention. trikova, he rumbled, and under his gaze the listener fell away from her like a snake shedding its skin, and in that moment she was only trikova, mortal and frail and uncertain.

then the clouds shifted and the heavens brightened, and under the light she was the listener again.

grim, the prophet began fondly, muzzle dipping to sniff at a partially exposed starfish. past end of land, i see many things. hear whispers. voices are clear now. they lifted their head to look at ingram. druids will find home in sea. then we must learn our home, and learn of others. collect secrets.

morgana is first of three speakers. she will be eyes and ears of druids, and leader to lower druids, as all speakers will be, for the first time, the listener spoke words that would form the core of druid law. you are keeper. not leader, but above speakers. my protector, advisor, knower of secrets. you answer only to me.

when the listener next spoke, a new solemnity lurked under the words. one day i will send you away from our home, with many important tasks. in time, you will return. it will be... harrowing.