Private The Bryn'adûl | Understanding of the Cosmic

[Seer Kalanthir]

The Bryn'adûl | Understanding of the Cosmic
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Location: Somewhere within Draemidus Prime
Tags: Sylok'Vanari | Seer Veralith |

A member of the Ashaka Order had been singled out by the Order's elders, strange dreams in the night. Now - that very same Mender was now asking for guidance from the Seers. Something not so lightly given nor gifted. The roots of their strength came from compromise, not ignorance of opportunity.

And ignoring the strange request of one Weaver would be exactly that. Even if to many, it seemed like a waste of time - Kalanthir knew their was value in every the smallest of things. Such as this Weaver, when one did not bother to look closely; there was nothing special or interesting about him. Nothing that warranted the time of not one but two Seers. But, even so Kalanthir knew there was more to every creature than met the eye.

The two Seers waited in the Ish'makra commons room, deep inside of Xaeldrask's inner citadel. The massive Seer, Veralith stood adjacent to him, silent as she was - Kalanthir could feel her apprehension and his own. This was a unprecedented usage of their time. But, the Chieftain had asked for the Seers to be more PRESENT. And thusly, they would be.

Patience, Seer Veralith. I counsel patience.

The Seer spoke to his peer telepathically, feeling the approach of the Weaver.

 

[Cheeki Breeki]

It was these moments that she felt her time most wasted. When one's audience was requested, one is expected to be on time for such meeting. At last, however, the seers awaited longer than Veralith had expected. However, the very notion of these visions could warrant for further investigation. She stood attentive as her fellow spoke without words.

Veralith replied, of course:

Were is so easy, Seer Kalanthir, were is so easy.

She would wait only but so long before finding a better use of her time.

Sylok'Vanari Seer Kalanthir

 

[Sylok'Vanari]

The snap of his jaw shifted his fierce teeth forward, until a long slender tongue escaped from the open maw of Sylok's mouth. A light hiss swam through the air, a sign of exhaustion for the great mender. It was unusual for him to seek others for answers, when he consistently studied to find them in his effort to propel the Draelvasier further into the future. As a scientist, Sylok almost refused to get help from others during his research process. In other categories, like the force, he only knew of his ability to heal others in ways that urged him to discover further means of surgical talents. His people were difficult to wound, but harder to save if proven vulnerable against the treacherous standards of the common galaxy. The only thing that seemed to cause his exhaustion more than these daily and sometimes often tasks...was nightmares. The deep, lucid images that rolled through his mind as he slept rendered sweats. Puddles of it, a biological misstep in their genome. He wasn't even sure the other Draelvasier were capable of having nightmares. Something, Something was off. The events that lead Sylok here imprinted on him through war. While he used his restless time to study the process of post traumatic stress disorder from the violence and brutal turmoil that transpired on the field of battle, nothing added up. He didn't feel vulnerable to the violence, he actually enjoyed it. The primal instincts to fight were part of his very being, through and through. It was his wit that brought him his true purpose. Enough of it to know that the things he saw after the recent battle weren't images projected from previous imprints.

No.

This was new, unknown to his core. The web of power tugged at him, his mind contorted from suppression. It wanted out, but Sylok didn't now what lingered beneath. The signs displayed themselves among his own people, even those that resided beyond, enemies that one day would pray for forgiveness before the Draelvasier. It was odd, even when wide awake, while rare the same streams of pure energy began to manifest around those that lingered nearby. It was unnatural. It worried him, enough to do something so out of character that he stood before the magnificent doors of an old Draemidus Prime Temple. The Seers heard his request, no matter how mundane the situation might turn out. Knowing, was a powerful cure to uncertainty. Sylok placed his palm against the doors, the silver crest embedded reminded him of their great leader Tathra. A flash of blood and screams warped into reality. He tried to shake it off. Sylok grunted and pressed hard onto the door as a thundering tone stifled the visions. A burst of compressed air slammed into him as he lifted his head, the brow of his eyes scrunched in irritation. A slight expression, if any, showed a small twinge of pain. His head felt like it was on fire and his body tingled with pinpricks of warmth.

Finally, he reached the stone podium and his eyes shifted to the first seer. They were motionless, sitting atop thrones that reminded him of their ever reaching wisdom. Sylok sneered, he wasn't sure this would lead to anything, but it was worth a shot. He remained silent, waiting for the council to allow him the floor. His eyes widened, the glow of red surrounded the seer, the same energy that matched his nightmares. It stretched itself between the two, before slowly moving toward Sylok. He didn't want to talk out of turned, but he felt rushed. He didn't know what would happen when the stream of red energy reached him, Death? Pain? Transformation? It was too risky not to speak up, the stream of red power slowly inching closer.

"Red!" Sylok shouted, impatient as he stepped backward. "Red...Power!" Sylok stepped back again, nervous of the voices and blinking images coming back. "I see Red, Energy around everyone... I see it now! Help me brothers and sisters! I seek the truth..Am I Ill?" Sylok's voice cracked slightly, the last words inquisitive of his true issue. His heart thumped to a hurried beat. The sweat began to form once more. He began to consider if this was just another nightmare. If not, the visions were strong enough now to haunt him while awake. If that were true, he was in worse shape than he thought.

Seer Kalanthir ​