"To me, it's also about... freedom to tell my story, aside the odds and restrictions where... being what I am constrains me, aside from what it means to be specifically me. To turn my history into something that only fosters the greatness within, or some such thing." 

I'm smiling wistfully, I find, as the blurriness fades in and out.

I can see the houses, now - the simple if fairly orderly constructions of logs peeking out past the coming corners of the path, and a slow stream of smoke spilling out into the sky from presumably the longhouse wher we'll be recieved. 

"That... can be a part of it, in a sense." 

They walk for a little bit longer, and then she pauses. 

"...Tell me: What more do you want to do, as a mortal, given this chance?"

"...Let's sit." 

I sit down, my knees splaying out to the site, my feet placed against each other. 

I splay my fingers through the dirt, the gravel, the grit and grime and dew and little strands of grass peaking out aside all the preparations to make this proper. 

This path has been tended to, of course, and given where it is, right now in all likelihood it's more real then I am, right now. 

I... 

Don't know quite what to think of that. 

"I'm doubting what I want to think - I doubt whatever I notionally lose from going for this but I doubt that there's nothing that I can do that means something special coming now, too."

She sits, meditating in place .

A simple jade tablet appears in her hand, and she places it just in front of her feet. 

"A note, I think, is worth it - even if I've left the ordinary confines of mortality behind for as long as I can recall. The city is not kind - not for anyone, much less those who wish to cling to their pretenses of purity."

"I hope that the lack of costs is real. I hope that this does not cripple my development in some esoteric way. I hope that the paths that I've walked will form something good, when so much of my life has been a painful painful thing. I hope that I can walk the path from here without these handholds, that I won't be bound by these choices, that I can pick aup new ways to express myself and empower myself to make the changes, and that I do not forget the reasons for those, so that my purpose shall ever be something that retains the original meaning. I hope that these words are more then soemthing hollow, and that the story that I tell will be a worthy prologue to the tale of someone as glorious as I am to be." 

I blush, just faintly, and stare up at the sky. 

The clouds are normal, in a sense, but I know that there are people who dance in them, that the sky is not something so distant, and that I will learn to play there too, all too soon, in a way. The power armor was... 

Disconcerting, in a way. 

"I hope that you find your peace and place." 

We exhale together, and bask in the moment. 

"No point in tarrying, I expect." 

"...Yeah."

My thoughts race, a gentle cool calm of Sapphire's sketched lightly against the turbulent sea of my thoughts. I don't know what to ask of them, or if I have any right to this, or any reason to not just let them sweep me away into the moment, through the power of their words and the meaning behind what they've made of themselves. 

But soon, it shan't much matter, and the stories will be told.

The longhouse is beautiful, in it's own way - the somewhat ramshackle nature not taking anything away from the sturdiness of the thing, the tight locks of the wood making it imposing, even if if I know that my thouhgts are racing, that it's just a place, and that I am welcome, here. 

The smoke merrily puffs up into the sky from the distant smokestack, carrying a soft scent of cherry and seared steak all around us, despite the distance. 

...I knock on the door. 

Thunder replies - an oddly gently and quiet cacophanous cavalcade resounding as he smiles lightly at them past the swung open door. 

"You must be our guests - Iron the bluehearted and Amaya. Come, sit. The feast is nigh, and the night is young." 

He sets out his hand forth, and smiles, a lean lightness to the curve of his lips and the welcoming warmth in his eyes, before nodding surely and pulling them forward. 

I tense, for a moment, and shake his hand with an exhale and a timid twitch of my eyes downwards as I feel the resonance in the air, and the resonance of the earth. 

There's... perhaps a little bit of tears, welling up in my eyes, as things to faint to perceive flash before my eyes. 

"...A pleasure to meet you. Thunder, yes?"

"That he is. I'm Sea. I know my uncle can be intimidating at times, but please, make yourself at home." 

She shines herself, with a gentle darkness of the deeps. 

The longhouse is suprisingly well appointed and full of things, despite the modesty. 

A long table is decorated with simple ceramic plates and bowls and cups filled with ripe fruit and well-done meats and fragrant juices and wines, gentle white flames lighting the room from twisting tines of silver adorned with alight animal fats. A number of colorful characters and half-a-dozen more plainly adorned can be seem drinking and dining as the main roast's flame burns merrily in the background.

Without really thinking, I half-slip into the finest seat - an oddly soft leather pressed atop an intricately carved wooden chair. It's... rather comfortable. 

I stare down the line of figures - the lighting rather clear even with the dancing shadows, and I just... bask in it, for a moment, the din and the experience washing away the expectations.

"There you are, hun. Just take it easy. You belong here, now, and all you need to do is have fun." 

She takes her time to make sure that Amaya's all settled in aside the table, a small plate of the food set aside for her and a place to watch the festivities. 

And soon, he himself sits, the roast ready and placed upon the table, the din coming to an abrupt close as he taps his fork against his cup. 

"Here, here." 

He takes a deep breath in, and projects, each word carrying the power of his namesake. 

"Today, we welcome another being into this honourable house. Today, we rejoice, for we have found a new voice, and a new volume, to add to our tales. And today, we exalt in the stories that we've made this season. A toast, to the legends of our lives, and the plays not yet pondered." 

They drink, and whoop, and smile, the sky and earth shaking and bobbing ever so gently in approval. 

"The blue hearts have come here, from unthinkably far away, from a perilously dark world, who's dangers I can scarely comprehend, from a land so uncaring and uncivil as to deny her her story, her voice, for so long. Today, that ends! Today, she shall become more. Today, we will tell our story." 

Another rounds of toasts break out at a nod, white wine spilling into throats like water. 

"Firstly, let me tell the story of our genesis." 

He tells the story of Earth and Sky - who brought forth Sun through their loins and through their love, to shine down upon a dark and dreary world, and of Moon, brought forth through the radiance of their love and its fruits, learning to shine back with his own glory. He tells of Horse and Stallion, tightly-bound brothers and rivals and runners, brought forth to wander the Earth as Moon wandered the Sky, to rejoice in the compersion and the company. He tells of his birth, of the roots that sprung from his rage and his regrets, that created this place of plenty, in time, and of Fate, mistress of silk and twine that clothed and comforted them, who wove the wonder of a future beyond roving and reaving through the clinging darkness of the day's long by, and the birth of his final sibling - his nameless brother, who taught them of the forge, the dark and the ways to explore within, rather then without, through the miracles of his metalwork. 

There's a short round of applause, a round of clinking cups and a moment of quite before she continues. 

"There's many stories I could tell, but how about I tell the one about how I earned my name..." 

She smiles softly, and swishes her mead around her cup. 

"Thunder was having one of his tantrums - I still can't remember what about - so naturally I came to comfort him. I hugged my sweet lil hubby up in my arms, and watched the rain as it ran it's course. I asked him to tell me why he was upset, and he told me because he saw Sky weeping, up above, and that he saw the soil being washed away, and he worried for the harvest to come. So silly little me told him that..." 

She shivers, and her hair flares, flickering and floating around in the air with an unseen current. 

"I told him that I just found the water beautiful - that it was amazing to see it running along the land, the way it refracted the light of his aura, and how anything that he created ought to be something amazing. I kissed his cheek, and I found my Name. The water multiplied, and the running golden grain turned to fish, and the field to turned into the Sea." 

She smirks a little. 

"And then, we made love beneath the stars." 

A chorus of laughter rings out through out the hall.

And I can't help but chortle along with them. 

And soon enough... 

It's my time to talk, a hushed silence filling the room as they wait respectfully, as they watch the chrysalis form - I've read enough to know the steps, to know what the transcription of it onto film looks like, what the shimmering gem ought to look like. I can picture it easily enough - the cascades of light, the streamers of the tender but distant love wrapping together to make something quiescent come to life, to make an otherwise inert stone into a divine diamond, or something like that. 

But all I can really bring myself to feel is the gentle glide of the smoky air against my skin, the soft thrum of heat in my chest, the little tingle in my throat, and the poem, still poised in place in my mind. 

I raise my glass, and think, for a moment, clearing my throat as the moment draws nearer. 

This needs a proper introduction, I think, and some space. 

I stand up, pushing back a little regretfully from the fine little throne. 

"I'm Iron Ingram. I'm afraid that I don't have any stories of such a creation to tell you, of my life. In my home world, they have a saying: Alea Iacta Est. The die is cast, is the translation I've always been told for it. I find it... fitting, in a few ways. The usual interpretation is about how the moment you make a choice, you need to follow it through to the end - that once things are in motion, there is little you can do but watch them fall, and read the lots as they lay, and live your with with the results." 

"But kabbalistically, it has something of a different meaning. A 'die' is a tool using in manufacturing, in my world. It's a method for making finely wrought tools of steel, pressure and heat and the shape of the surface ensuring it that you will get something in a particular way. But there are still burrs, still little issues from the seams and the rush of the making, and still little tricks to the art - ways to find a finer thing, and to make something of the scrap. I thought my fate assured, back then, but I have learned much of the way that even the toughest of things may be remade." 

I smile a little shyly, but above that firmly and wistfully. 

"So I thought I'd share a poem, of my composition." 

I clear my throat, and speak. 

"I woo'd a woman,

A fellow fine - 

Soft and sharp, 

Dark and pale,

Young and old, 

tender and harsh."

I think back of excitement I had, to see her and watch her and adore her, even from afar, when we met, and straighten my spine. 

"I heard her - 

Wist and woe, 

Want and will, 

Pain and hurt, 

Need and loss."

I splay my hands wide, and think of the stars that I hope to see with her, someday, and of the breadth and depth of those monumentous moments, hooked and struck silent with the force of her memories, and her caged passions. 

"I touch'd her - 

Light and gentle, 

Close and warm,

Near and nice,

Far and sly." 

I flush, and let an eager smile come to my face. There was more, of course - there always is, when you just seek to tell a short and sweet story, but it was impressively directly that, that made her come undone.

"I took her - 

Firm and dear, 

hard and sure, 

smooth and solid,

'ware and 'wake."

I grin, a little, and feel it, the surge and swell and symphony, all rising up as the story resonates, writing itself into my soul, the firm flush shining brightly as I tie it all up. 

"And in time, 

Our love was bound, unbreakable." 

It was fast, sure. I was young and eager and excitable, and she needed someone so so much, but it was real and wonderful and wondrous, and in time... 

In time I could make that happen to others, too, more then just the gorgeous girls she swept along into my arms in her wake, and I could bring this world revolution too. 

I blush fiercely as I feel more then hear the waves of thunderous applause. 

The rest of the night is... a bit of a blur. 

The steak is wonderful, and the wine fine - thankfully a non-alcholic option was available - the fruit sweet and succulent, though I knew there was more masterfully made things to dine upon, on the Galaxia. I can feel how much that matters, the extra extravagant edge, the extra juice - figurative and literal - spilling from every bite, but it feels almost... suspended. I'm home, in a way, and I can enjoy this together for what it is. 

The affections are... flattering - the strokes of the cheek and the charmed smiles and the winks and acknowledging nods and the fabulous tricks of their dances of flame and air to draw my attention, fascinating flickers dancing through the space as I eat and enjoy. 

They gossip, of course - the little details of their dates and their lives and the countless layered creations of reputation and respect all washing by me as I just try to relate. There's more then enough drama in the spaces I've seen, and I try to give them what they ask, or at least a fresh set of eyes and my honesty, following the guidance in my soul that gushes forth as I call upon it more and more. 

I feel... overstuffed, almost, though not from the food. There's so much to see, so many extra layers to the air and auras here, new layers brought forth from just being here, breathing this air, settling in and every thing that I see from the initial burst compounds, every tiny detail I half-notice in a corner of my eye a thing that I can analyze later, every spin in Amaya's arms a new opportunity to find the right smile, the right balance, to create something more then what I had before, to press forth to places I never had the nerve for before.

I can't help but grin, and enjoy the party throughout the night, there are little tears in my eyes and on Amaya's lips as the eve finally finishes.