Welcome!

to Elysiphim’s second story prompt! Discover what happens after your choice! There will be a prompt you can submit to earn talons. Talons are the event currency. A special shop will open up once the halfway point of a secret goal is reached! Unlike other prompts, this one will reward a flat riyal bonus of 10 just for participating. Where you would normally calculate riyal, you instead will calculate talons for your piece! This prompt may be done Once per character! Characters that participated will recive something called a feat! This is like an achievement that will be displayed in your character's inventory! This item will be locked to the character as well. Didn't submit to The Whisper yet? Not to worry, these feats can still be earned until the event ends! If your character has not recieved a feat, or you believe has recieved the wrong one, please let howlheim know!

Story

Path of Stars

The liquid drips down your chin, shimmering and dark all at once. You have eaten the fruit. You stand for a moment, waiting for something to happen. A moment passes, then another. A soft breeze stirs the leaves of the golden tree. A scattered dance of light shines through the foliage. All was quiet. Something akin to disappointment fills your heart. Was nothing really to happen? No grand revelation? Was the creature the liar? Just a beast with entropy in its heart? You shake your head and look down at the fruit you had just bitten. Slowly, you let it fall from your grasp. It rolls upon the grass for a moment, then stops at the base of the tree.

You spread your wings and take to the golden skies, heading back to the Elysium. As you near City Centre, something fizzles in your mind, like an electric spark. Suddenly, your mind is flooded with a sensation far beyond your grasp. Thoughts, emotions, knowledge; it all fills your head. Revelation. You begin to tumble through the clouds, plummeting. New notions swirl in your mind. They feel… heretical and strange. You shut your eyes and all you see are stars – something you’ve only seen dance upon halos. But these were no halos, these were true and real stars. There is a flash of red. Then, you feel it. A soft thrum in your thoughts, comforting and quiet. Come to me, it says. The voice surrounds you like a warm embrace. It feels like… home. You spread your wings, catching the air beneath them just before you reach the ground below. You are at the city gates, tall and white. They loom above you. What was once comforting and secure now feels cold and unyielding. Come, the voice continues. You take a step forward, the voice weaving a path through the stone and filigree.

Eventually, you near the center of the city. Your ears perk as they are flooded with a cacophony of voices. A crowd has gathered before the throne room of The Weaver. You push your way through the numerous elysiphim, all jolting and jeering. You break through the crowd line, and you see it. The Weaver. You’ve never actually seen it, but there It stands, just outside of the throne room. Something radiates from it. Wrath. Before The Weaver stands another elysiphim, chest thrust out in boldness. He was a pale creature, bearing 6 pairs of wings upon his body. Several eyes and flowers – lilies – are scattered across his coat. His gaze was locked upon the deity.

“Blasphemy! Outrage!” You hear the crowd shout. But then you hear his voice. A voice so soft and smooth it felt like a song. There is a lilt of defiance caught upon his words. A note of familiarity lies upon his tongue. This voice. The voice you heard in the sky. It was him. Emotions come crashing down upon you all at once. Who was this elysiphim?

“You, creature of deception. You have woven lies in the minds of us all,” Said the pale elysiphim. How could his words be so quiet but so confident? Suddenly, another elysiphim breaks through the crown. She was off-white, her coat painted in splashes of turquoise. One feathered wing laid upon her back, the other thick and leathered. Sebastian. Anyone would recognize her. She was a warrior, a champion. She approached the pale elysiphim with boldness, thrusting a claw into his chest.

“How dare you say such things, Luciel.” Luciel? The elusive archangel? Shock fills you at the realization of who this pale elysiphim was. Luciel puffs his wings in surprise.

“Sebastian, you must see the truth, if only you would-” The archangel is cut off by the bark of Sebastian’s voice.

“If only I would what? Eat of that accursed tree?” She snaps her teeth together. “Never. I would never betray our great Weaver,” She declares. She turns to the crowd. “This blasphemer deserves no place in our ranks. See him for what he is, a lying snake!” She shouts. Luciel makes no move to retort. He simply gazes at her with a profound sort of sadness. He looks again to The Weaver, who seemed to hum with anger.

“I desire no place in your ranks. I demand the truth from your lips and freedom from your grasp.” The deity leaned down, its face beaming a light so bright it was nearly blinding.

“You, small thing. Do you think I care for what you demand? How dare you reject this paradise I have so generously given you. The life I have so kindly granted to you. Have your wish, begone, never to return again.” It sneered. With talon, hand, nail, and claw,  it summoned the tapestry, something so sacred the mere sight of it hushed the crowd. It thrust its limbs into the weave and pulled out a string. With one slight pull, it snapped. Before the archangel sprung a dark pit, swirling and black. “Enter, and find your ‘freedom’.” Luciel looks towards the deep well, then he lifts his eyes towards the crowd. His eyes linger on every face, but once his gaze reaches you, his eyes lock upon you. He holds out a clawed hand and utters words so sweet and inviting they almost pull you forward.

“Come with me.” You freeze. The voice whose softness wrapped around you in the sky, stood before you inviting you in. You look to the swirling pit. You hesitate. Then, an elysiphim brushes past you from the crowd.

“I will go. I have seen the truth, and the truth is not The Weaver,” they speak. Luciel nods with a smile painted across his maw, a motion subtle and sweet. Another steps forward, and another. Soon, a small crowd has gathered before the pit. They step forward, falling into the deep. Luciel looks to you again in earnest, the choice is yours to make. Will you too step into the unknown? Or will you attempt to find comfort in what is known to you, The Weaver.

Make your choice in The Murmur Prompt!

Path of Filigree

You hear the scuffle of leaves above you as the creature leaves you to decide your fate. Dread fills you as you peer at the shimmering fruit. No. You will not partake, this deception will not touch your lips. The voice is gone now, leaving your mind unplagued. The tree looms above you, its shadow cast upon your face. Your heart jumps in your chest. You need to leave this place. You spread your wings and lift into the golden skies. You wish to return home, to the Elysium, to The Weaver. You must tell it of this great deception, this poisonous voice. Your wings brush through the cotton clouds as you soar across the sky. You near the City Centre and alight upon the warm white stone road. You stand before the tall gates, white and laced with filigree. They welcome you forward. As you stride through the city streets you hear a commotion that catches your attention, a cacophony of voices. A crowd is gathered before the throne room of The Weaver. You push your way through the numerous elysiphim, all jolting and jeering. You break through the crowd line, and you see it. The Weaver. You’ve never actually seen it, but there It stands, just outside of the throne room. Something radiates from it. Wrath. Before The Weaver stands another elysiphim, chest thrust out in boldness. He was a pale creature, bearing 6 pairs of wings upon his body. Several eyes and flowers – lilies – are scattered across his coat. His gaze was locked upon the deity.

“Blasphemy! Outrage!” You hear the crowd shout. But then you hear his voice. A voice so soft and smooth it felt like a song. There is a lilt of defiance caught upon his words. Who was this elysiphim?

“You, creature of deception. You have woven lies in the minds of us all,” Said the pale elysiphim. It is then you realize, this elysiphim has been poisoned by the voice. Suddenly, another elysiphim breaks through the crown. She was off-white, her coat painted in splashes of turquoise. One feathered wing laid upon her back, the other thick and leathered. Sebastian. Anyone would recognize her. She was a warrior, a champion. She approached the pale elysiphim with boldness, thrusting a claw into his chest.

“How dare you say such things, Luciel.” Luciel? The elusive archangel? Shock fills you at the realization of who this pale elysiphim was. Luciel puffs his wings in surprise.

“Sebastian, you must see the truth, if only you would-” The archangel is cut off by the bark of Sebastian’s voice.

“If only I would what? Eat of that accursed tree?” She snaps her teeth together. “Never. I would never betray our great Weaver,” She declares. She turns to the crowd. “This blasphemer deserves no place in our ranks. See him for what he is, a lying snake!” She shouts. Luciel makes no move to retort. He simply gazes at her with a profound sort of sadness. He looks again to The Weaver, who seemed to hum with anger.

“I desire no place in your ranks. I demand the truth from your lips and freedom from your grasp.” The deity leaned down, its face beaming a light so bright it was nearly blinding.

“You, small thing. Do you think I care for what you demand? How dare you reject this paradise I have so generously given you. The life I have so kindly granted to you. Have your wish, begone, never to return again.” It sneered. With talon, hand, nail, and claw,  it summoned the tapestry, something so sacred the mere sight of it hushed the crowd. It thrust its limbs into the weave and pulled out a string. With one slight pull, it snapped. Before the archangel sprung a dark pit, swirling and black. “Enter, and find your ‘freedom’.” Luciel looks towards the deep well, then he lifts his eyes towards the crowd. His eyes linger on every face, but his eyes lock upon another elysiphim. He holds out a clawed hand and utters words so sweet and inviting they almost make you squirm.

“Come with me.” You look to the elysiphim he is addressing. Then, you look to the swirling pit. You can feel their hesitation. Then, an elysiphim brushes past you from the crowd.

“I will go. I have seen the truth, and the truth is not The Weaver,” they speak. Luciel nods with a smile painted across his maw, a motion subtle and sweet. Another steps forward, and another. Soon, a small crowd has gathered before the pit. They step forward, falling into the deep. You can’t believe they would willingly walk into that dark and swirling well. You look back to the weaver, whose limbs were crossed tightly, their posture taut. Could you step forward like Sebastian and tell the weaver of the accursed tree? Will you stand back and watch this event? Or perhaps, does this archangel’s words spark something within you? Something that will make you leap into the dark.

Make your choice in The Murmur Prompt!