Safrin
The evening light finds new places to fracture as Safrin arrives, caught first in the shells Zavien has so carefully strung and then in the glittering curve of the glass orb, until the shrine seems momentarily filled with small, scattered constellations. She takes shape among them as if called not only by his voice, but by the shimmer of everything he has brought her, her gaze moving with warm approval from the opalescent shells to the captured sands, and then at last to Zavien himself.
"How lovely," she murmurs, the words soft but no less bright for it, before her smile deepens into something fond as her eyes drift briefly to Sol. Her attention returns to Zavien as he kneels, and though there is amusement still glimmering faintly at the edges of her expression, what follows is gentler and far more knowing. "Understanding ahead of time what you are willing to sacrifice, and what lines you will not cross, will make moments of great conflict much easier." Safrin lets the words settle between them like starlight upon water, beautiful and clear, but carrying weight enough to sink. "Not painless, of course. Never that. But easier."
Then her gaze lowers to the sword where celestial light gathers around the blade, silver and radiant, threading over steel in luminous ribbons before brightening until the weapon seems less held by the stone than suspended in the heart of some distant star. For a moment, the shrine is filled with the soft hum of power, and then the light sinks deep into the sword, vanishing beneath the surface as though it has always belonged there, waiting only to be remembered.
Safrin lifts her chin slightly, satisfaction curving her mouth. "There," she says, radiant and warm once more. "May it serve you well when gentler hands are not enough."
Zavien has completed his quest and his Starblade has been upgraded to mastered
"How lovely," she murmurs, the words soft but no less bright for it, before her smile deepens into something fond as her eyes drift briefly to Sol. Her attention returns to Zavien as he kneels, and though there is amusement still glimmering faintly at the edges of her expression, what follows is gentler and far more knowing. "Understanding ahead of time what you are willing to sacrifice, and what lines you will not cross, will make moments of great conflict much easier." Safrin lets the words settle between them like starlight upon water, beautiful and clear, but carrying weight enough to sink. "Not painless, of course. Never that. But easier."
Then her gaze lowers to the sword where celestial light gathers around the blade, silver and radiant, threading over steel in luminous ribbons before brightening until the weapon seems less held by the stone than suspended in the heart of some distant star. For a moment, the shrine is filled with the soft hum of power, and then the light sinks deep into the sword, vanishing beneath the surface as though it has always belonged there, waiting only to be remembered.
Safrin lifts her chin slightly, satisfaction curving her mouth. "There," she says, radiant and warm once more. "May it serve you well when gentler hands are not enough."
Zavien has completed his quest and his Starblade has been upgraded to mastered
