it's fine to fake it 'till you make it
The wind shifted.
It came not from the sea, but from the stars—soft and warm, like the hush of twilight before the moon rises. The scent of jasmine bloomed briefly in the air, curling around the offerings on the altar, and then Safrin was simply there.
She stepped from the horizon as if walking down the spine of a constellation, starlight clinging to her limbs like silk. Her gown shimmered with the phases of the moon, her eyes aglow with the ancient clarity of the night sky. In the hush that followed her arrival, even the ocean seemed to quiet.
Her gaze swept across the silver-bright bracers and the delicate teardrops laid beside them. The corner of her mouth curved, not with amusement, but something deeper—something reverent. "You’ve done beautifully," she said, her voice the sound of waves breaking on starlit shores.
To Hadama, her smile grew warmer, pride flickering like reflected moonlight. "Steady as ever. You have brought Torchline strength." Her hand extended, her fingers brushing lightly over the bracers. "And beauty."
Then to Flora, her expression softened in a way it rarely did—a fondness too deep to name. "And you," she murmured, taking in the gleaming drops, the trembling steel of the queen’s spine. "You’ve given not just beauty, but meaning." Safrin stepped closer, her hand cupping Flora’s cheek for a moment, letting warmth radiate out through her touch. "I see you."
Then she stepped back and lifted both arms toward the sky.
The stars above seemed to slow in their twinkling, brightening, shifting—then pouring downward in a soft cascade. Threads of starlight spilled from her fingers and wove into a dome overhead, vast and glittering. At first, it was opaque—a hushed celestial hush descending like a veil—but then it thinned, drawn taut and nearly invisible save for the soft, glimmering outlines of stars still traced across it like a watermark. It settled over Haulani like a mother’s hand, protective and absolute.
['say]"Nothing of the Family’s flesh may cross into your borders now," Safrin said, her voice echoing with quiet finality. Her hands lowered, the dome gleaming one last time before fading to near-invisibility. "But," she added, gaze sharpening just slightly, "the one who calls himself Vox... is not of flesh. He may still listen. Still whisper. Walls cannot bar what has no form." Her gaze lingered on Flora then, then Hadama. Then her expression softened again, the stars behind her dancing playfully as her smile returned. "But for now, rest easy. You’ve earned it."
Torchline has completed their RQ and received;
Starlit Barrier | A faint starlit barrier that surrounds Haulani. The Family cannot physically bypass the barrier.
It came not from the sea, but from the stars—soft and warm, like the hush of twilight before the moon rises. The scent of jasmine bloomed briefly in the air, curling around the offerings on the altar, and then Safrin was simply there.
She stepped from the horizon as if walking down the spine of a constellation, starlight clinging to her limbs like silk. Her gown shimmered with the phases of the moon, her eyes aglow with the ancient clarity of the night sky. In the hush that followed her arrival, even the ocean seemed to quiet.
Her gaze swept across the silver-bright bracers and the delicate teardrops laid beside them. The corner of her mouth curved, not with amusement, but something deeper—something reverent. "You’ve done beautifully," she said, her voice the sound of waves breaking on starlit shores.
To Hadama, her smile grew warmer, pride flickering like reflected moonlight. "Steady as ever. You have brought Torchline strength." Her hand extended, her fingers brushing lightly over the bracers. "And beauty."
Then to Flora, her expression softened in a way it rarely did—a fondness too deep to name. "And you," she murmured, taking in the gleaming drops, the trembling steel of the queen’s spine. "You’ve given not just beauty, but meaning." Safrin stepped closer, her hand cupping Flora’s cheek for a moment, letting warmth radiate out through her touch. "I see you."
Then she stepped back and lifted both arms toward the sky.
The stars above seemed to slow in their twinkling, brightening, shifting—then pouring downward in a soft cascade. Threads of starlight spilled from her fingers and wove into a dome overhead, vast and glittering. At first, it was opaque—a hushed celestial hush descending like a veil—but then it thinned, drawn taut and nearly invisible save for the soft, glimmering outlines of stars still traced across it like a watermark. It settled over Haulani like a mother’s hand, protective and absolute.
['say]"Nothing of the Family’s flesh may cross into your borders now," Safrin said, her voice echoing with quiet finality. Her hands lowered, the dome gleaming one last time before fading to near-invisibility. "But," she added, gaze sharpening just slightly, "the one who calls himself Vox... is not of flesh. He may still listen. Still whisper. Walls cannot bar what has no form." Her gaze lingered on Flora then, then Hadama. Then her expression softened again, the stars behind her dancing playfully as her smile returned. "But for now, rest easy. You’ve earned it."
Torchline has completed their RQ and received;
Starlit Barrier | A faint starlit barrier that surrounds Haulani. The Family cannot physically bypass the barrier.
'till you do. 'till it's true.
