What happens when you earn a Name

Helical formations of cirrus clouds warp unnaturally within the sky, revealing the presence of Czixi, the Welkin.

(Order): Czixi says, "My Tempest. You shall attend Me."

You have emoted: Xeii curtseys before a war shrine of Czixi, listening.

Beholding a formation of cerulean light.

Czixi, the Welkin hovers here, borne aloft on shifting currents of air that envelop Her form. She wields Ciela, Skean of the Empyrean Gale in Her left hand and Eteri, Anlace of the Aerial Squall in Her right.

You see exits leading northeast, east, and southeast.

You are transported by the power of the Divine.

(Hallifax): Curwa (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "Salutations, Lady Welkin."

You give Czixi a respectful salute.

(Hallifax): Zyphora (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "Greetings, Lady Welkin."

(Hallifax): Czixi says, "Hallifax."

Czixi drifts forwards, coming to rest before the formation. She descends close to the ground, Her toes just skimming the floor, and casts Her gaze upon the illuminated diagram. "When your Name was judged," She says, tilting Her head, "by whom did you swear?"

You have emoted: Xeii lowers her hand, her skin shifting between sunset colours. "I swore upon the Frost Queen. I swore upon the Lord Conductor and Lachesis the Weaver, my Lady."

"Indeed." Czixi waves the short, squat dagger in Her left hand. Mist begins to coalesce amidst the room around you, weaving amidst the light of the Formation. "But it is not they alone who will judge you. Who have judged you."

"The Weaver and the remaining Fates are always watching you, just as They watch all those who step through Their Portal. They know the path of your life in the Tapestry; They see the ripples you make." A faint, almost malevolent smirk lifts Czixi's lips. "And you have begun to make Them afraid."

You have emoted: Xeii subtly tenses at this, but remains at attention.

Czixi melts, Her form dissipating into mist and scattering across the floor, becoming one with the clouds that wisp from Her form. When She remanifests several heartbeats later, directly behind you, the sudden chill of Her clammy presence is abruptly overbearing.

You take a deep breath and allow your mind to calm, and your crystalline body begins to shift in colour.

"There is nothing They hate more than the unpredictable. The impossible. And you, My Tempest - you have begun to dream." Czixi lifts Her other dagger, long and needle-like, and in its wake washes a chromatic tapestry before the two of you. It hangs in the air, gleaming and glittering, so bright that it takes your eyes a moment to adjust.

When they do, the sight is unexpected. It is not a tapestry at all, though its edges fray like fabric, the image within flecked like needlepoint. It is a mirror of sorts - but one that shows you before an incredibly complex loom. Your fingers move deftly amidst the strands, which glitter like starlight, folding them amidst one another.

Your eyes focus, and in those threads - so small, yet so clear - you see images. Yourself, stood beside friends of all kinds. The sharp edges of a familiar headdress, and a violet eye gazing out at you. Yourself again, composed and tall, standing amidst an incomprehensible chaos - moving quietly through it, your fingertips gently touching the warped figures around you.

Almost unaware of her words, immersed in the images, you murmur, "I have felt as if I was simply forging my way through dark with one tiny lantern..."

"Yet, you have continued, for a single flame may banish that darkness. You have dreamed of that light. And as you have dreamed," Czixi murmurs, the picture before you remaining on the final image, "you have inched towards the impossible."

Czixi twitches Her wrist, shattering the tapestry into skeins of light that evanesce from being. "Why have you done these things, Nameless one?"

You have emoted: Xeii smiles quietly. "Because there was need. Either coming from my core or calling me from the outside - from the city, from the Adherents."

Softly, you say, "I have tried to be myself, my best self, imperfections though I may carry."

The ghost of a smile passes fleetingly across Czixi's lips.

"Yes. And so you will continue to, as you go forwards on this journey. One that shall never end, not even when you fade from the world, for your actions shall resonate in the lives of others. In the Great Tapestry." Czixi lifts higher once more, turning Her back upon the diagram. Its light envelops Her like a halo, illuminating the misty mantle of Her cloak as an incandescent blaze. "Kneel."

You humbly drop one knee to the ground before Czixi, genuflecting reverently in Her presence.

The room falls silent. Czixi does not move, frozen before you, the constant movement of Her physical form replaced by unnatural stillness. When She speaks, breaking the freeze at long last, Her voice is soft - softer than you have ever heard it, dangerous and sharp. "Nameless one. Into the Great Tapestry you have woven the stirrings of a dream. A dream impossible; a dream neverending. A dream that will leave an eternal mark upon reality itself."

"A dream of creation."

The words reverberate around the room, and you realise that you cannot see the Goddess anymore. You can see nothing but mist, glowing mist, cold and clammy as it presses against your crystalline skin.

You feel a slight tug within your chest and the air around you sparkles with motes of bright light.

As mist stirs around Her, the form of Czixi begins to flicker in and out of being. One moment She is there, the next gone; the next returned, a foot from where She had once been standing. When at last She reappears fully, Her long-bladed dagger rests in her hand, dripping with the fresh blood of Xenthos.

Xenthos has been slain by Czixi.

You have emoted: Xeii only now allows her comprehension to show, but her eyes are steady and focused, gazing at the condensation that floats around her.

It is now the 13th of Juliary, 502 years after the Coming of Estarra.

"A dream of rapture."

You open your mouth to breathe, and the mist rushes into your lungs - icy cold and burning hot all at once. It chokes you, but you hold yourself strong, determined not to falter in this of all moments. You are more than this. You have contained a Divine Voice within yourself. You can bear this, too. The images in the mirrors flash before your imagination, giving you strength.

"A dream of certainty."

It hurts, and it hurts, and it hurts - but you remember an altar. Misty and cool, smooth crystal - a blade swept before you, oaths sworn, promises made. Three dreams dreamt.

One dream realised.

"Arise, Xeii Shevat. Arise, and know that you have dared to dream. Arise, and know that you are First of Your Name."

Tears flow freely from your eyes as Czixi, the Welkin appoints you to First of Their Name.

You will now be known as Minister Xeii Shevat, the Weaver, by order of Czixi, the Welkin.

The mist fades at last, absorbed into your body and scattering from the air around you. As sight and sensation return, you realise that Czixi's blades are placed upon you - one touched to the gossamer tendrils of your pauldron, the other with its point depressed into the flesh covering your heart. She draws them back as you stir.

You have emoted: Xeii slowly raises her head and her self, breathing ragged.

You stand up straight.

No smile turns Czixi's lips, but Her eyes are radiant; bright silver, laced with sky blue and brilliant white, the opposite of their usual stormy hue.

Quietly, you say, "It is an honour, my Lady, that I will fill, feed and grow with m life."

(The Nameless): Czixi says, "Nameless Ones."

(The Nameless): Czixi says, "Behold one amongst you who has dared to dream. Who has scored their aspirations upon reality itself, an indelible mark on creation."

(The Nameless): Czixi says, "Look upon your comrade Xeii, she who is the Weaver, and know that she is First of her Name."

With a flourish, Czixi slips Eteri, Anlace of the Aerial Squall into a pair of ebony leather scabbards.

With a flourish, Czixi slips Ciela, Skean of the Empyrean Gale into a pair of ebony leather scabbards.

(The Nameless): Nicholo (from the Prime Material Plane) says, "Congratulations, Xeii."

You have emoted: Xeii smiles, her form lit from within in sun-bright citrine light. "Thank You, my Lady," she whispers, a hand resting upon a nebulous pauldron of trailing mist.

Mist flutters around Czixi as She winks in and out of existence, manifesting before you with a hand extended. She touches the tip of Her fingers to your chin, tilts your head up, and nods at you. "Now go, My Weaver. Bring our Hallifax to the Crescendo it ought to recall being."

You say, "I will, my Lady. As I vowed..."

You curtsey gracefully before Czixi.

The favour of Czixi has worn off.

Czixi, the Welkin has bestowed Her divine truefavour upon you. It will last for 30 months.

The currents that envelop the Welkin stir to mist as She departs, Her form dissolving into nothing but wisps of smoke that fall to caress the ground as they fade from existence.