Private The Power of Prayer

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Information

The Light of Ashla, Champion and Avatar of Ashla ​

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Objective: Talk to Michael
Location: Michael Barran's Apartment
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Michael Barran

Eina spent most of her time in the Netherworld, but when she needed to, she was always available in Realspace. Lately, there were no threats in Realspace that required her constant supervision and presence, so she kept herself busy with things at home. And in the Netherworld there was never a stop. She thought this world was the more dangerous of the two, even if for most it was just the afterlife. Still, it was filled with different races, though most were still somehow tied to death and passing. And here the predators were not after flesh, but souls and Force energies.

And it was her duty, as well as the duty of her people, to protect the defenceless souls and to help those who turn to the Valkyrja, or the Children of Ashla for guidance and protection. But she had been more than just one of these two species since the first great Tython attack, she was one of the Ashla Avatars, along with her husband Geiseric . True, this didn't change much about her character, she remained the same as before. She performed the same tasks as before. She helped others, taught them, healed their souls or physical injuries. And of course, there was one of the most important things of all, in a desolate corner of the Netherworld...

… the Dark Three. War, Death and Rebirth.

Although the three Avatars were quiet in their own territory these days, she and her people were always keeping an eye on them. Eina considered them among the most dangerous entities in the Netherworld. They were similar to Ashla or the Manda, only these were not Light Side or Neutral entities, but evil. They were evil entities of an evil religion, who merged souls into a non-common consciousness to further their wisdom and provide a new life for their followers. No, the Dark Three fed on the souls of their dead followers and those who were killed by their followers. They strengthened themselves with this and only released the mutilated, tortured souls back or kneaded them into various monsters.

In addition, she was watched and checked for anyone who might pray to her or want to contact her. Not everyone had a connection to the HPI communications network, although it was possible to communicate to the Netherworld with it. That left prayer. If someone prayed to Ashla, she knew about it, though she only bothered if Ashla herself asked her to. Otherwise, she only cared when she was prayed to specifically. It was still unusual for her to be treated as a Living Saint, but prayer as a calling word worked perfectly. Like this day, when she sensed Michael Barran 's call and prayer.

She didn't wait too long after that, but created a rift between Netherworld and Realspace, where Barran was, and stepped through it. And the rift closed a few moments later, as the fabric of reality healed itself. She stepped closer to him, though she kept her distance of several meters before speaking.

"I have heard your call... your prayer, Lord Barran. I am here, how can I help you? What did you want to talk to me about?" she asked him.

 

[Michael Barran]

"The Tattered Regent"

TAGS
Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

THE POWER OF PRAYER - 1

​

West Tower, The Hand of Thrawn,
New Carannia, Nirauan (902 ABY)

'Well- here goes nothin', I guess....'
​

With a small silver mask icon (little more than the size of a thimble) held in the palm of his hand, and a rosary between the thumb and index finger, the Lord Imperator was knelt on both knees, with head bowed, and all according to the practices of his Ashlan denomination. Normally the small icon would not be needed, as the vast majority of his prayers were uttered whilst wearing a real mask, among other mask-wearing devotees to Sedes Aurea, but Barran was home at the time, acting on a spur of the moment whim of the soul.

'In the name of Holy Ashla, and by the Will of Sedes Aurea, hear my prayer - hear the wayward.'
​

Only the wind and the rain could be heard outside, and though it's incessant rattle was beating against the windows at the time, there was something about it that relaxed the old Woad somehow, aiding his focused sincerity to near-meditative extreme. Lord Michael had known for a while that prayer differed to his usual brand of meditation, as Midichlorians seemed to behave differently whenever matters of Will became matters of Faith, and especially when devotees' emotions intertwined with the hope for salvation, and all this had intrigued Barran to the point of near-manic research into this phenomenon.

'Saint Eina, Guide of Souls - to intercede, to guide, to shelter lambs of Paradise.'
​

'I have heard your call... your prayer, Lord Barran. I am here, how can I help you? What did you want to talk to me about?'

​

In a confirmation of honour's merit, the necessity of the soul, and of the same faith he found in the voice of young Tancred, the last holdout of Fel Imperium found himself shedding tears of joy, though only after he nearly-jumped out of his skin from the jumpy shock of Eina's sudden arrival, chuckling through the tears as he finally turned to gaze upon the face of the Ashlan Avatar. Purpose was finding the Defiant once more, and at a point in the timeline when many in Barran's position would have given up, especially with the resurgent Dark Voice considered; realms were rising and falling like daily moon-tidal seas, the Galaxy's strongest powers were falling as Fel's Empire had, just twenty years before, and the strength Lord Michael needed had just materialized in the study of the Hand's habitation tower.

'I apologise for these joyful tears o' mine, I see you're still getting used to the reverence thing. But honestly, you should be shown the significant impact you have on corporeal souls.... Lady Eina, there is so much work to be done, so much insight and perspective to impart, and so much we have to discuss together from here.'

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Information

The Light of Ashla, Champion and Avatar of Ashla ​

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Objective: Talk to Michael
Location: Michael Barran's Apartment
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Michael Barran

Lord Michael was not wrong when he said that Eina is not yet used to the effect and influence she has on humans and other beings in Realspace. It was something she really couldn't get used to, let alone being considered a saint. She had never been religious, she didn't believe in Ashla, but she acknowledged her existence. In this she was like her parents; she did not recognize any being or entity as a god or goddess. There were very powerful Force entities, or Force users, but that did not make them of divine origin. Neither Ashla. But by now Eina understood that mortals needed to believe in something.

She nodded quietly for that very reason. She wasn't used to this, but she was used to the fact that some people thought it strange and were surprised when her former Valkyrja spoke and sounded exactly like her own mother, Ingrid L'lerim. True, it was a little different, as the Eternal Empress' voice was cold, distant and emotionless, while the Light of Ashla's was kind and caring. One voice, but two extremes of tone.

"No, I'm not used to it, the living are still very strange to me." she told him.

She then drew her wings a little closer together to make sure she didn't knock anything down in the room. Meanwhile, she watched him all the time; Eina looked at Michael with interest as he continued to speak. It had been a long time since she had been approached with a request such as the one he was now outlining. She didn't really know what to say to that. What she did know was that people were usually confused by communication through emotions and thoughts, which was commonplace for her. It was clear and honest, while the living often expressed feelings other than what they thought or felt. This was disturbing for Eina and she did not like lying. That is why she was completely honest and to this day struggled to understand the different phrases and sayings.

"Oh?" she asked with genuine surprise, and it was evident on her face as well. "What subjects do you think I can help you with?" she asked him again."What are your plans Lord Michael?"

 

[Michael Barran]

"The Tattered Regent"

TAGS
Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

THE POWER OF PRAYER - 2

​

West Tower, The Hand of Thrawn,
New Carannia, Nirauan (902 ABY)

'Nirauan needs a Cathedral, a source of Defiant Light.... Let it serve as a shield for faithful souls.'
​

'An' I'm not even scraping the tip o' that iceberg, by the way.', the Lord Imperator then admitted, trailing off with the sudden urge to depart for Serenno, a nostalgic longing to return to that one Carannian Hookah den; even if only for a few hours to better brace himself against the memories, and those visions that still pained him greatly, catalysing a tiredness of the soul Lord Michael once saw in the eyes of his father. But when Barran's eyes lifted once more, looking up from his empty coffee-cup to gaze into the eyes of one he truly believed was a Saint of the Light, he knew he had made the right choice in praying, offering a kindly, sincere smile with a nod for the all good he knew would result of this encounter.

'I see visions of Bogan and Mawsworn menaces, gathering strength, devouring the very essence of life in this Galaxy. I am also given visions of murder, of sacrificial killing on a near-unprecedented scale, and on the ground where all this is inflicted, the influence of deconsecration spreads like a plague.... An' I desire now to wage war upon that blight, to cast it from the Galaxy - once an' for all.'

From a warm, kindly demeanour, the expressions in the old Woad's face would gradually turn more serious as he continued to tell of events from the Realspace Force-Users' perspectives, becoming a mask of righteousness, like the very pendant he was grasping in prayer just moments before. A look of which a certain Saint was likely to have seen before, expressed across the face of a certain Kellas, and perhaps even that on the face of a certain Stormchaser; though the Tattered Regent, the Wanderer of yesteryear, seemed to calm his soul at a much-quicker pace than the usual brand of Goidel.

'Let the cure, let the Light - grow once more.... Let us sway the Galaxy's hearts an' minds.'

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Information

The Light of Ashla, Champion and Avatar of Ashla ​

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Objective: Talk to Michael
Location: Michael Barran's Apartment
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Michael Barran

Religion was something Eina had never really understood, even though she was now part of Ashla. Still, she knew that people, the living, needed some place to pray and pay homage to the godlike being they believed in. She also knew that it could be anything really, a garden, a building, whatever. But it was still very unusual and strange to her that so much material good was being spent by the living on this. When they could have been spending their time or energy on so many other things. Geiseric and the others tried to explain this to her many times, but Eina was different. That is why she looked at him questioningly and somewhat confused.

"I'm not sure I understand you, Lord Barran. How can I help you build a cathedral?" she asked, confused. "You need raw materials from the Netherworld that can protect you and your people from the power of Bogan more effectively than Realspace can provide for the people here?"

Suddenly nothing else came to her mind; as always she was quite modest and often, almost always, forgot what moral support her presence alone gave to Ashla's followers. It had been too long since the golden age of the Ashlan Kaiserreich, and for her, time in the Netherworld was very different from Realspace. Thus it was that at the beginning of her existence, while barely ten years had passed in Realspace, she had aged three hundred years in the Netherworld. And such fluidities of time did little to help Eina understand how people think. To the following, she only nodded that he was only mentioning the tip of the iceberg.

At the mention of Mawsworn, a deep sadness was evident in her blue eyes and on her face. Eina had never cared to hide her emotions the way her mother had. Only on the battlefield did she not allow anyone to see anything of her, when she was a warrior against the demons or when she faced the Dark Three. But now, it was a situation where it didn't matter if anyone saw the compassion and sorrow on her. The Bogan had always been present, the Sith Order had been growing stronger for a long time, and there had always been those who had appeared and disappeared, but all of them had wounded souls. But the followers of Mawsworn and the Dark Three were different. They were more terrible than even the simple followers of Bogan.

In the case of Mawsworn, she always felt pain and sorrow, especially as she saw what the Heathen Priesthood had done to increase its following. Broken, maimed souls in need of protection and redemption. Battered souls with nothing to look forward to but War, Death and Rebirth devouring their souls after death...

" Darth Solipsis and the Mawsworn are more dangerous than Bogan himself. Ashla and Bogan are almost always balanced, but Solipsis and the Dark Three... they always upset that balance. The Dark Three are still a serious threat to both Netherworld and Realspace. They must not be allowed to grow stronger. I think that's what I can help you with the most, since I'm still fighting the Dark Three in the Netherworld to this day." she told him.

 

[Michael Barran]

"The Tattered Regent"

TAGS
Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

THE POWER OF PRAYER - 3

​

West Tower, The Hand of Thrawn,
New Carannia, Nirauan (902 ABY)

'I agree, wholeheartedly. Though I must bring hope where it's needed - I believe Ashla will prevail.'
​

With hands gesturing to the room they were in, then next toward the space in the room where Eina was standing, Barran was simply showing that her presence there was reason enough to believe their God would be victorious in the end, his evidence that ancient accords were being met once more. It was then that New Carannia's clocks struck on the hour, and with them, so too did the bells of the St. Tancred monastery, ringing out across the rainy, stormclouded city in tones resonant with the Light of Sedes Aurea.

'Glad you're here to hear 'em.... It was these same tones you hear, now, that helped young Tancred perfect his singing tone - the most-beautiful singing tone I have ever heard.'

Silent again, the Lord-Imperator smiled once more as the bells beat against the rain, serene for a while longer, and for as long as peace remained to be snatched up in these morsels of late. The old Woad was happy finding whatever small serenities wherever he could, but once again the slap of necessity would reach his mind, reminding Barran to report,'Coincidentally bringing me back to the matter of the cathedrals.... Now, we have all the raw materials, all the devout fresco-artesans and all the rest of it. But what these cathedrals need most is Saintly Consecration, effectively making our temples into spiritual beacons, emanating shields against the Dark Three's corruption - sanctuaries from the rains of destruction.', revealing a plan he knew he would not live to see.

​

'And - uh - I know not if you have any insight on this other issue, but.... I woke up with an ancient sword in my grip recently, an' something tells me that same blade requires that same rite of Saintly Consecration.'

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Information

The Light of Ashla, Champion and Avatar of Ashla ​

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Objective: Talk to Michael
Location: Michael Barran's Apartment
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Michael Barran

Eina looked at the man in surprise when he gestured toward the room, and then toward her.It still unsettled her - this notion of reverence - for she had never been fond of personal veneration. The woman had never seen herself as a saviour; rather, she humbly considered herself as someone who merely revealed the Valkyrja’s deeds to both the Netherworld and Realspace. Nothing more.

Since Tython, she had become the voice and vessel of Ashla, delivering her will to both the living and the dead. But Eina never believed this needed to be mystified or glorified. Much like her mother, she too disliked any form of personal cult.

It was then that the bells began to toll outside, their tones echoing beautifully. Eina turned her gaze toward the window, searching for the temple - or cathedral - from which the chimes originated. She only turned back to Lord Barran when he spoke of her nephew. At the mention of Tancred, a faint smile touched her lips, and she nodded.

"I must agree. Tancred is very gifted - and not just in this." she said sincerely.

She agreed that the people would no doubt be joyful when the temple or cathedral was completed - she understood how important such a structure would be to them. But there was something else in the man’s words… something she understood only now.

"Oh!" she breathed, nearly inaudible. "Now I understand what you meant by blessing it… To imbue the building with the Light Side of the Force. Yes - I can help with that."

It was a relatively straightforward task. Well - perhaps not simple, as it required a great deal of time and energy. After all, this was not a mere weapon or suit of armour - it was an entire structure. But it was still possible.

When the man finally spoke of the sword, Eina allowed a faint smile to return. But at the mention of sanctification rites, her expression darkened, and she shook her head.

"No… That blade must not be imbued with the Force - nor subjected to any ritual. That sword… It contains the soul of House Barran’s ancestress. She lost her husband, and when she forged the blade, she sacrificed her own spirit into it - so she could protect her son the first of the Barrans… and all of her descendants." she said, sorrow heavy in her voice.

 

[Michael Barran]

"The Tattered Regent"

TAGS
Eina L'lerim-Vandiir

THE POWER OF PRAYER - 4

​

West Tower, The Hand of Thrawn,
New Carannia, Nirauan (902 ABY)

'Huh.... An' there I thought it was just a legend, a myth, even.'
​

Without the much-needed context, the sword in question could have held entirely-different significance in the mind of the Tattered Regent, but fortunately, Eina would know enough to reveal what Michael was yet to learn until that moment. The very meaning of his life was finding puzzle-pieces that fit, such that the old Woad never expected to find along the way, though he also knew what followed such blessings; gradually understanding what his own father was thinking in the last days of the realm, what he felt approaching in the wake of his last great victories, realising then that only the desire for repentance remained.

A desire for a death with meaning, a passing so consequential it could light a fire under the next generations - as it had for his own.

Barran then looked to the scars on the palms of his hands, closing his eyes in a centuries-old lingering of regret, even sighing under the weight of revelation as his mind raced with the sins of yesteryear, along with the sins and regrets of his forebears. But for all the regret, all the guilt, all the memories of his former apathies that assailed his mind, the room would light up around them all the same, bathing every corner, every nook and crannie in the brightest Light imaginable, bringing the soul in sword to the very same hands he once doubted. Without incantation, without prayer, and without any knowledge of it's power, the sword found it's way to the worthy for the second time.

'So Laoise reunites with the so-called,"Bastard of Clan Mabbardin". Or rather, with the bloodline that stemmed from their progeny.... A sad part of our history, an' a stain on Woadish tradition, it would seem. A blight only honour can heal, a cycle of which - only sincerity can break.'

Studying the artful work of Songsteel beauty as it's ringing reverberated off the walls of the lounge, Barran could not help but marvel at more than the craftsmanship in these moments, as there was a level of control that brought out all the best qualities of the base-metal from which it was wrought so beautifully, like the very avatar of love itself had devoted every fiber of her being to complete it. Michael could tell it stemmed from somewhere far more meaningful than any supposed origins from lost technology, and even farther from realms of darker, more wicked origin, defying all dismissive explanations with each gleaming reflection across it's surface.

It was a thought that struck the Tattered Regent's mind with shockingly profound impact, a realisation unlike any of those he encountered in the dreams of his Novanian friends, like it hit far closer to home, as if the answer had been coursing through his veins the entire time. A thought that would be followed by another of it's extreme, seeing for himself that devotion of similar extreme had, in fact, gone into the perfection of this true rarity among claymores, finally understanding the truth as he finally declared,'You deserved better than the Woads, m'dear. But it would bring me joy to lessen that pain, Darling of the Forge. I accept this obligation, this penitence - Heart and Soul!', addressing the soul in the sword personally.

'Wait a minute.... Does this - make you & I - compatriots? Perhaps even - kin, perchance?'

 

[Eina L'lerim-Vandiir]

Information

The Light of Ashla, Champion and Avatar of Ashla ​

"Galactic Common" | <"High Nelvaanian"> | ["Essonian"] | ~ telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >> ​

Objective: Talk to Michael
Location: Michael Barran's Apartment
Equipment: Sverð Fyrstr (weapons) | Ljósspjót (spear) | Skrúð Engill Fyrstr (armour) || Empyrean gland | OPBC-01m
Tags: Michael Barran

Eina watched silently as Michael examined the weapon; the woman was naturally good at listening to others. As a human, had she not been Force-sensitive, she would likely have made an excellent doctor or psychiatrist. Understanding souls did not actually come from the Force, but from the woman’s very being. Perhaps this was because Ashla had created her from two souls, though it was also possible that it was because both of the other individuals were skilled in psychological warfare and understood it well. In truth, Eina didn’t dwell much on it; she simply did what she felt was right; she healed, both physical and spiritual wounds.

"The blade never truly left the bloodline, as it was buried with one of your ancestors. But it is true that for centuries, the purpose for which Laoise forged it was lost," the woman said to the man.

Eina slightly raised an eyebrow when he spoke of a stain and disgrace. She perhaps looked at him somewhat sternly, even motherly, as she did not share Michael’s thoughts on the matter. The group had already left, and the survivors had rejoined them in the present, after living for many hundreds of years apart to avoid influencing the flow of time. Unfortunately, Eina was no longer able to speak with Laoise, but she believed she knew the woman well enough before her final death.

"I don’t see it as a sad chapter or stain upon the traditions. I rather think it was a new beginning. Just look at the glory the House Barran has achieved, how many noble deeds have honoured the Woad traditions. If there ever was a stain on honour, your family's deeds have long since cleansed it. I believe that without you, the traditions might have long vanished, and the Galaxy would know far less about your people," the woman said gently. "I think Laoise did what she did precisely because she knew what glorious deeds her descendants were destined for; after all, she came from our present to the past."

The woman continued to watch the man silently, then smiled softly again, but looked at him with a hint of embarrassment at the question. Honestly, she did not know the answer either. She had to pause for a few moments to think. Yet, even after doing so, she could not find the right answer.

"She voluntarily chose to be with your ancestor; love is like that. Honestly? I don’t know, Lord Michael. What I do know is that a group of Valkyrja and Children of Ashla researchers accidentally ended up in the past during an excavation in the Realworld. For a long time, they kept themselves away from mortals, as their species did not exist in that era. Later, perhaps due to time travel, they became capable of producing offspring with the living; the Valkyri with the Galidraani, the Woads. Thus, a new species was born. They eventually left this part of the Galaxy and went to the Unknown Region, to a planet almost impossible to reach. There, they waited to return to the time that was their present. The original group’s still-living members only returned home afterwards, but..." she trailed off for a few moments.

With this, the woman revealed that the first Barran might have been among the first members of this new species, and upon reflection...

"Yes, House L’lerim are descendants of this species as well, so yes, there might be a closer connection between our houses than we previously believed. I do not know the exact kinship… but after all, kinship is not solely a matter of blood," she said gently, with a kind smile.