Chapter 22 (13th of Vashi in the year 6199)

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Chaos is never sought

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Chaos is never sought. It is merely acheived by the true nature of all things. It takes no god or goddess to impliment what is the essence of the universe.

Bahmat Rasou, Blood Lord

Under the silver light of Earoni's Eye, a contingent of elven soldiers escorted Sheala

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Under the silver light of Earoni's Eye, a contingent of elven soldiers escorted Sheala. They were dressed in uniforms that, while formal, maintained a functional nature should the need to act arise. She recognized the one to her left as the man Sayra had called Esse during their first encounter. None of the guards acknowledged her, staring only straight ahead as the procession carried on down the wide and well-worn path toward an awaiting feast. One where she was to be the guest of honor.

Reane, Brentai, Gregory, and Anthony accompanied Sheala, but remained separated and at a distance behind her.

At the end of the trail, a pair of twisted trees, each growing up on opposite sides, entwined their boughs overhead to form an arch. As Sheala passed through the awe-inspiring natural gateway, her jaw dropped. In the clearing before her towered an impossible to miss tree whose diameter was two hundred feet across, if not more. Its age had to be great, she assumed, her eyes drawn to oddities other than merely its size. Broad, blue-green leaves covered its branches. Blooming along each limb were violet flowers that fluoresced and cast everything in its vicinity aglow. Like a magnificent torch in the evening.

It was familiar, and something nagged her about the oddity of it. She knew she'd never seen this particular tree before. Still, it was like a long-forgotten dream fighting to come forward to her conscious mind and speak.

Under the outstretched and wide reaching branches, rested a long, table running perpendicular to the entrance Sheala now entered. The elves had fashioned it, like most other things in these lands, right from the trunk of a fallen tree. The top was level and smooth, but the sides still retained its course bark covering arcing from the surface and into the ground in a half circle. The width of it was nearly ten feet across and neatly arranged rows of chairs and torches mirrored its length in the grass on either side. Unlike many formal settings, there were no seats at either end and no place of honor at the head of the table.

Ushered by their silent escorts, they led Sheala to a seat exactly equidistance from each end. Esse, in a show of respect, pulled out the high-backed chair and bade her to sit. Which she did, catching up the folds of her dress in her hands and tucking them under her legs.

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