Ridia Alma-Ater Solii
The dreamer returned
Remind me, O clear wanderer, of the days whose sadness is borne by the trees, rivers and misery of those ones that once lived in bloody darkness. Will the child of reason ever be able to reconcile the local remnants of a once ancient civilisation with the celestials of the galactic heavens? Will the language of loss and spiritual sickness find sympathy with those who conquered the galaxy, ploughing through oceans and abysses of dead women and children and their husbands and loved ones? Will the larger world accept that mystery, that terrible symbol, the history and truth that the local souls have contained within themselves till this day? How many more childish and immature in its shell and invisible in its logic questions will have to be asked by representatives of the civilised galaxy to finally understand - there are such persons, places and knowledge, which treasures will remain hidden from external guests until the end?...
A light, unremarkable rain dripped down on the ferns and the roofs of the ancient monasteries, only adding to the atmosphere of religious contemplation a whole new level of calm and serenity in which Ridia was immersed at this moment. For weeks now, she had been the only living mortal to cross the wilds of space, welcomed into the Untouched Valley on an unnamed planet in an extragalactic structure called the Red Nebula on the humane and intellectual-spiritual rights of potentially the only living representative of the great culture and religion of the High Weeping Angels. At the moment, Ridia was a little off the main paths that connected the central temple, which served both as a place for prayer and sacred festivals and as a living space for the local religion's disciples and clergy, to the other leading temples and the small, surviving meteor shower and active asteroid impacts that had left the rest of the planet's surface wet and dry, the small economic and social villages and small open-air markets, along the lines of which completed what was once a planet-wide culture called Cosmic Destiny, the foundations and teachings of which were very close to the heart and spirit of Ridia, who listened intently to the leaves and trees around her, trying to distribute her mental resources after a whole night of quietly respectful discussions about the value and necessity of merging and increasing contact with outside young and not-so-young civilisations and companies, which resulted in Ridia finding herself a supporter of the local worldview and an assessment of the necessity of preserving isolationist views but no less technologically advanced worlds and races like this one. Thus, the present satet of Ridia would be more properly viewed as a kind of semi-hypnotic sleep with the preservation of conscious control over the surroundings in order to simultaneously protect herself and the locals, also capable of self-defence. Sometime before lunch began, just after the local bright star had stopped shining over this part of the astronomical body's surface and the precipitation and rain had moved elsewhere, Ridia silently made her way towards the spaceship she had rented for a month to share her "foreign" food with the locals and show off a few antique artefacts of grey antiquity of which Ridia was sure they had positive attitude towards, joyfully looking at the gradually approaching semblance of a spaceport with only a few cargo civilian ships with her almost dark sides, seeing nothing else. A sublime and purifying aura spread from Ridia in all directions without stopping, as if to warn everyone that you were looking at a person who had survived entire empires and federations, and who retained the will and passion to face new challenges and lessons along the way - the true aura of the saint.
For ambience: Fauna - Ethereal Meditative Space Ambient
Darth Malum of House Marr
A light, unremarkable rain dripped down on the ferns and the roofs of the ancient monasteries, only adding to the atmosphere of religious contemplation a whole new level of calm and serenity in which Ridia was immersed at this moment. For weeks now, she had been the only living mortal to cross the wilds of space, welcomed into the Untouched Valley on an unnamed planet in an extragalactic structure called the Red Nebula on the humane and intellectual-spiritual rights of potentially the only living representative of the great culture and religion of the High Weeping Angels. At the moment, Ridia was a little off the main paths that connected the central temple, which served both as a place for prayer and sacred festivals and as a living space for the local religion's disciples and clergy, to the other leading temples and the small, surviving meteor shower and active asteroid impacts that had left the rest of the planet's surface wet and dry, the small economic and social villages and small open-air markets, along the lines of which completed what was once a planet-wide culture called Cosmic Destiny, the foundations and teachings of which were very close to the heart and spirit of Ridia, who listened intently to the leaves and trees around her, trying to distribute her mental resources after a whole night of quietly respectful discussions about the value and necessity of merging and increasing contact with outside young and not-so-young civilisations and companies, which resulted in Ridia finding herself a supporter of the local worldview and an assessment of the necessity of preserving isolationist views but no less technologically advanced worlds and races like this one. Thus, the present satet of Ridia would be more properly viewed as a kind of semi-hypnotic sleep with the preservation of conscious control over the surroundings in order to simultaneously protect herself and the locals, also capable of self-defence. Sometime before lunch began, just after the local bright star had stopped shining over this part of the astronomical body's surface and the precipitation and rain had moved elsewhere, Ridia silently made her way towards the spaceship she had rented for a month to share her "foreign" food with the locals and show off a few antique artefacts of grey antiquity of which Ridia was sure they had positive attitude towards, joyfully looking at the gradually approaching semblance of a spaceport with only a few cargo civilian ships with her almost dark sides, seeing nothing else. A sublime and purifying aura spread from Ridia in all directions without stopping, as if to warn everyone that you were looking at a person who had survived entire empires and federations, and who retained the will and passion to face new challenges and lessons along the way - the true aura of the saint.

For ambience: Fauna - Ethereal Meditative Space Ambient
