The Heartwood And will dead lips to speak?

"Spirits called us. You are letting them know we are here, obeyed."

He understood. Or, partially so. It was not quite accurate that all whom were currently present had been anointed by the spirits to call the heartwood home, but Khasni did not wish to ruin the satisfaction of having been given purpose. Clearly, that was what this brute thought. But alas, it was not the spirits who had made it so ... but fate, and fate alone.

"He bestowed, Harbinger."

Though not familiar with the title chosen, she knew enough to figure it was an important rank. Khasni could do nothing but withhold judgement on his character. Surely Alduin would choose well. The honor was given to him, thus he should know who to bestow the same to others. To his reply, for the time being, she would say nothing.

And you?

A curious question; the equivalence of her own.

By the lips of the damned and before the eyes of our eldest spirits, I was dubbed as the Oracle. Henceforward, I covet the label "Saga", for it means "she who sees everything". A fitting label, but perhaps not one everyone would accept, nor agree to use. Such would not be forced by any, but it certainly would be an opportunity to gain both esteem and respect.