[Hopetoun] A Beacon for Hope

[Vega]

56th Ashan, 721

It was time.

"How daft is this," Vega said to Arlo just as they left their camp. "I'm nervous." She was - she didn't need to tell him, he knew it as she knew what he was feeling. But, sometimes emotions needed to be expressed, Vega knew, and this one was a good sort of nervous. She blamed her newfound tendency to share on the pregnancy. She'd gotten dressed in their tent and in that, too, there was something different about her. She was wearing a long floor-length black dress with a pattern of small white flowers, and a little bit of frill at the edge of the neckline and the very bottom of the dress itself. She had a wrap for around her shoulders, and she had fussed a bit with her hair, straightening it when it was wet with the treatment she'd been shown when she'd been shopping in preparation for the first time they went on a date. Placing a hat atop her head, she gave him a sassy grin. The dress was more floaty and feminine than Vega was used to wearing, and for the first time in a very long time, she wore no sword. He noticed, she knew he did, and Vega shrugged. "I'm always armed," she said quietly. "Thanks to Qylios an' her awesomeness. An' I don't like strappin' a weapon round where our baby's growin'."

Her small shrug spoke louder than her words and she held out her hand, the bracelet he'd made for her on her wrist. "Come on you, stop lollygaggin'." Smiling at him Vega was content to walk in silence together to the beacon. "It's a shame Sir Chip's asleep innit?" She said that as they arrived there. "We couldn't have done none of it without him." Looking up at the tree which Kisaik had grown and the beautiful structure spiralling around it, Vega beamed. "I might cry. If I cry, will you give me an onion or somethin'?" Bumping her shoulder against his, she looked around at Hopetoun and then walked with him till they were at the foot of the beacon.

Looking at the people who were here, ready for the lighting of it, Vega smiled. Her hand in Arlo's tightened slightly, but she looked - and felt - relaxed and pleased to see them. "Alright. So. This should work." She grinned. "Up the spiral stairs, we will find ourselves in 'Nella's Kitchen'. Nella was a very special lady an' the sign for it shows her an' her family. We'll make preserves an' jams an' chutneys an' pickles there, but that's not the main purpose of this. This beacon will lead lost ships here, an' help them navigate safely. It's a beacon of hope." She gestured then for them to begin to make their way up, so that they could test.

Vega sent a silent - but entirely heartfelt - prayer to Xiur, to Daia, and to Qylios - that the thing worked. There was no reason for it not to, they'd put in the work and then some. But still.

[Arlo Creede]

"Of course you're nervous," Arlo said as they walked away from camp side by side. It wasn't as if he hadn't already known it. If her swirling eyes hadn't told him all he'd needed to know, the connection they shared was more than enough. "You've put a lot of yourself into all this, and an enormous amount of work. You want things to go well, and they will," he assured her.

As for the pains she'd taken with her appearance that trial, in large part he'd looked on with a curious smile. "You look beautiful," he said. "And you know, with or without a blade on your hip or a bow at your back, this baby will already know that he or he has the most mama bear of mamas on Idalos." But of course she'd cry, onions or not, and that was alright with him. It better be. Vega did a lot of that lately. That was normal, apparently, or so he'd been told. This being his firstborn child, and having been an only child himself, he'd have to take the word of others in that regard. As a result, he'd made sure to always have a steady supply of clean kerchiefs in his coat pocket, just in case.

Because this was a momentous occasion and a special trial for Vega, Arlo had made more effort towards his appearance than he usually did. Cassion's blood ran strong in his veins, he usually opted for a scruffier appearance. That wasn't to say that his hair was any less unruly than it usually was. But he'd allowed it to be trimmed, a little, and he'd taken the time to shave that morning, polish his boots and pull on something more, well not exactly formal per se, but he'd cleaned up well enough for his mortal father Jonas to have observed as much when they'd spoken that morning.

It was a shame that Sir Chip wouldn't be there to see the beacon lit for the first time. But Arlo guessed their small leafy friend might be there in spirit. And there were others there. Doran, Darius, Hart. Arlo nodded a greeting to each of them in turn as Vega began to speak. From the looks of the new structure, it was a thing of wonder already, even before it was lit. He'd been deeply touched by Vega's gesture, that of including his mother's memory in it's construction, and he was eager to see all that she'd done there.

With that in mind, Arlo turned to the business of climbing the spiral stairs, and followed carefully in Vega's wake. Steep and winding, but he'd chosen his place in line for more reasons than being eager to reach the top. He'd never say it aloud, but it was the only place to be, in the very unlikely event that Vega was to take an unexpected tumble backwards.

[Doran]

The son of Ziell had only returned to Faldrass the trial before, but he felt as if he had never left. A part of him needed to be surrounded by the ice and the snow that belonged to his father’s domain of winter, but another part of him was quite comfortable here. In Hopetoun, he had found peace, and companionship and, of course, hope. He had never thought that he would enjoy a comparatively simple place that was still very much a work in progress to such an extent; the settlement had occupied a special place in his heart since he had first set a foot into it though.

He felt blessed, and grateful, because the people of Hopetoun had welcomed him in their midst rather than treating him with suspicion, and because he had been allowed to be part of something like that. Once upon a time, he had thought that the world was doomed – he had witnessed too much violence and suffering over the course of the centuries – but he found his previous attitude hard to understand now. There was hope, there was always hope, and the world was fighting for.

Contrary to his usual habit, the Mortalborn was not dressed in black, or in various shades of grey, this time, but had opted for an elegant bespoke suit in a dark shade of reddish-purple, the same color that the sky sometimes was shortly before the sun set, the color of dusk which was one of Xiur’s domains. The suit was embroidered with delicate threads of gold and silver that shimmered like tiny stars, and his feet were encased in soft black leather boots that reached his mid-thigh.

He was completely calm and relaxed as he walked through the settlement and towards the beacon – Faldrass tended to have that effect on him. When his gaze fell on the structure that finally stood finished now, he stopped, and his blue eyes widened slightly for a moment though. Of course, they had yet to light the beacon and see if everything worked as it should, but it was already a thing of wonder nevertheless, he decided, before he straightened himself and came closer in order to greet Vega and Arlo who were already waiting there.

“It’s good to see you”, he said to Vega and Arlo, smiling lightly and inclining his head in a greeting before he turned to look at the people that were gathered around them and nodded at them. He did not recognize Hart – the memories of what had happened in the Glass Temple had still not returned – but Darius was a familiar face. The leader of Hopetoun was a former student of his; he had taught him how to use a sword. Another person that he had expected to see here was missing, but he did not doubt that Kisaik would be there in spirit and think of them when they finally lit the beacon.

“Shall we?” he wanted to know and raised a dark eyebrow fractionally before he followed Arlo and Vega up the stairs. He ascended them comparatively slowly, one hand on the railing, but not because he was afraid of heights – such things did not worry him, although he would of course always be careful. He simply took the opportunity to inspect the beacon. He had watched it take shape, of course, but he had never walked to the very top before. He tried not to walk too slowly though lest he held the people that were behind him up.

Eventually, he decided to focus entirely on what was in front of him again though, sending a silent, but heartfelt prayer to Xiur who had tasked them with building the beacon, and to Daia, the other Immortal who had marked him, as he did so.

[Darius Baer]

Arc 721, 56th of Ashan

Darius was not particularly fond of wearing a suit.

Not yet, anyway. Perhaps the time would come when dressing up in such finery became second nature, but that trial had yet to arrive. He preferred to be adorned in clothing that meant he would be ready to set sail at a moment's notice, or to venture off into the wilderness.

But he was learning that some things were not befitting of a Baron of House Von Smooglenuff when there was a formal occasion to be had. In truth, he was there in his capacity as the founder of Hopetoun, but the lighting of the beacon seemed an important enough moment to ensure he was dressed for the part.

The suit in question was maroon in colour, with a charcoal grey vest and a white tunic. He wore a leather belt around his waist, and on his hip, where he usually wore his longsword, rested a decorative knife. He also wore the signet ring that had been gifted to him by Saoire. He had even taken the time to trim his beard with a razor.

The colour was a bold choice, he knew, but he didn't see any point in dressing up just to blend into the background.

And besides, Astra had said he looked 'handsome' when he'd showed her his new look, and that seemed to make the discomfort feel worthwhile.

It was something of a turnaround. When they'd first met, Darius had been wearing his father's suit, but by the time he boarded the Libertalia for the first time and encountered her first mate, he'd already slept in his clothes and done his best to shake off the effects of a little too much alcohol the night before. His shoes were scuffed and the half-biqaj brunette who greeted him had made no effort to hide the fact that she was not impressed.

That might have gone some way towards explaining the slight spring in Darius' step as he made his way towards the Beacon. He had heard much about it, and he had caught glimpses of it from afar, but it wasn't until he came up close that he was able to appreciate its size and craftsmanship.

He mingled with the others who were present: Doran, whose alchemical skill had worked wonders; Wren, whose eagerness to contribute had been contagious; and Lars, whose efforts since returning to Faldrass spoke for themselves. He made sure to thank each one of them, and he would have done likewise for Sir Chip, had he been present - although a part of him was relieved that he didn't risk offending the tunäwä by mispronouncing his full and complicated name: Mädärä Kisaik Ciuruọrun sọ Kufuata Karo Kashe Däuä, Tìfmi Härumtä sọ anou Faewun Samuwar, ọbavi sọ tẹlẹ, igbaradi sọ anou tabi ọludïbọ!

There were many other Hopetounians present, too, as this was an opportunity for the settlers to celebrate another addition to their new home.

"You've done very well," he grinned at Vega as she and Arlo arrived, and the expression of praise was extended to the redhead's husband. "This is quite an achievement!"

He craned his neck as he looked up at the beacon, openly marvelling at the construction.

Darius took a step back as Vega addressed the gathering, and then he fell into line behind the others to climb the stairs. Heights did not bother him - he had climbed rigging plenty of times - and he was eager to see what lay in store for them at the top.

[Hart]

56th Ashan, 721

"The stars are shining," Wren said, and Hart looked up at the sky.

They were standing to the side of the group, having said their hellos. They had said hello to all of them there, Vega and Arlo; Darius, who was the leader of Hopetoun; the others from Hopetoun; and the man Hart thought was named Doran, a marked of Xiur like Vega.

It was their night, and Hart had thought that Wren would stand with Vega when they'd said hello, but for the moment Wren was standing beside him. The boy was looking up at him, and so Hart looked up at the stars and said, "I think the stars are shining for the beacon, tonight."

Wren looked up thoughtfully. "I think they're shining for the people who will be on the ship."

The boy was quiet, standing beside him; quiet in the way that Wren was. But looking at the boy looking at the stars, Hart knew that Wren was happy. Wren had helped build the beacon, and there was a sense of accomplishment in the boy. The sense of accomplishment shone through Wren's quietness, his solemnity, and lit up the feelings in him of fulfillment, of belonging and community, of happiness, for others to see.

Wren was solemn, looking up at the stars. But looking at him, Hart could see the stars' light.

Momentarily, Hart looked at the beacon. They were here to light it. But it seemed to Hart that the beacon had lit Wren; lit them.

"Sometimes I think about the people who will be on the ship," Hart said, and Wren looked at him thoughtfully.

"Me too," the boy said, and Hart was struck by how much he loved him. He loved him more than words could describe.

"I think about how they might not have much," Hart said. "How they might have very little belongings. How they might have very little money." He was quiet for a moment; there was the murmur of conversation, of others speaking within the group before Vega spoke. And beyond that, there was the sound of waves, of the water the people on the ship would sail on.

"I know what it's like," Hart said, "To sail away from the dark with very little; with little more than the hope that there would be something, a light, to sail to."

"When I think about the people who will be on the ship, I think about how the beacon will be a light for them, like the stars." Wren smiled at that, just a bit, and Hart said, "The beacon will be a light, Wren."

Vega spoke to the group, then; she spoke about Nella's Kitchen, and they all went up the beacon's stairs. Wren was quiet, thoughtful as the others went before them. Then the boy went up the stairs as well, and he touched the railing. He had helped build the railing so that the people on the ship would have the beacon, a light, and he smiled briefly.

Wren's smile could have lit up a thousand beacons for a thousand years.

Hart smiled at the thought, and went up the stairs with him.

[Pig Boy]

It did indeed start out as a starry night. The conditions for the Beacon seemed ideal, and for a moment perhaps it was forgotten, how Xiur had explained the night would proceed, thirty nights from the day he'd appeared to Vega and Doran. He had given them warning, but not without hope. Not without offering that there was a solution to the problem he foretold. There was a ship of poor unfortunates inbound, surely enough they could see its sails as they climbed the Beacon, at least a few breaks journey from the shore. There were other boats on the water too, but these appeared not to be on the same route as the larger ship from Rharne.

As they looked on, Xiur's words to Vega and Doran would perhaps be recalled.

"Their coming here is a blessing, and yet one that will not come without consequence. As I said, something will happen in a few days, that will cause a great deal of fog to obscure the shores of Faldrass. The people here will need a beacon."

"I leave it to you two, to make such a beacon, one that can shine through the Dusk and Clouds and fog that are bound to result from the sudden chill."

So as the group of Hopetounians climbed the spiral steps to the top of the Beacon, perhaps one of them might notice, in the sky, stars beginning to blink out. One after the other. A sudden chill was felt on the Ashan air, and a wind. A small cold-front blowing in from the coast. The slightest hint of flurries forming in the condensation that rose over the water, as they looked out beyond the rise on which the Beacon was perched.

The whorls of low-flying clouds hung over the waters, for seemingly miles on. And the stars offered no guidance to anyone on the water. They only had what lights they brought with them. The Beacon's structure held fast against the winds, however, and they were all able to climb safely to the top soon enough.

Clouds and fog obscured their vision now, to the point where they couldn't see but a dozen meters ahead of them. If ever there was a time to light a beacon, this was it.

The fuel was there, it was only left to the people of Hopetoun to bring it to light.

!	Message from: Pig Boy
	I will post again on July 9th. Please have posted to this scenario before then?

[Vega]

56th Ashan, 721

When Arlo said that their baby had the most mama-bear of all mama bears, Vega grinned. "I don't need to wear a sword on my hip, I can make one out of light. Never not armed, that's me." There was a whole lot going on in her mind, from thinking about all of this to wondering what would happen when the ship arrived and yet Vega was focused. As they went up the stairs, she glanced back at Arlo and said nothing. But she knew what he was doing, and he knew she did. That was enough. There were people here, Darius, Doran, Hart - but there was one person above all others who she knew had to have his moment here. She grinned at Darius, and nodded. "It were a team effort, no doubtin' it. Thank you, Darius, for supportin' us. I reckon this will serve Hopetoun for many an arc, you know."

Ascending the stairs, there were tiny lanterns hanging on the bottom of the railings - and the railings themselves were delicately carved wood with scenes on which Arlo, at least, would know the significance of. A crescent moon on which sat a hat-wearing boy, surrounded by stars. Some of the stars were inlaid glass which glowed and so the way was lit for them all. There were other designs too, and throughout - just here and there - was a small wren bird. Nella's Kitchen was at the top - and that was a circular space with one half filled with ovens, the other with display and storage. They passed through that, though, as they continued up the stairs.

And, at the very top, she saw it. "There, look," she said.

The ship was there, but Xiur had said that it would be cold and there would be a fog, Vega thought, and then she noticed that people's breath misted in front of their faces. The curse of her father meant that she was always hot, and so she noticed that before anything. Her hand in Arlo's - which she'd taken the moment they reached the top - tightened slightly and breathed in. Then, she looked around and her eyes fell on the one person she knew had to do this. "Hey, Little Bird," she said to Wren and she held out her hand. "It's time to light it."

She spoke to everyone as she held her hand to him. "When the storm came, an' then the freeze, Wren worked hard for Hopetoun. In buildin' the entrance an' the story of Hopetoun in it, Wren worked hard, an' he got to know a lot of us Hopetounians. He made part of this beacon an' he's the only person who can light it, I reckon." Vega smiled at him. "Because in all those times, Little Bird, whenever I felt like there was too much to do, you brought hope. You were a star, when I couldn't see one. So, I were wonderin', if you'd light it please?" Well aware of how many times she'd made sure that he understood just how much he was not allowed to mess around with fire, she added, "I'll help you, if that's alright?" Glancing at Hart, she smiled.

And then, as the fog began to fall and the stars began to go out, Vega breathed in. "They're always there, the stars," she said softly to Wren. "Even when we can't see them. Usually, it's enough to know that. Tonight, we've got to be the people what prove it to those who are scared an' alone. Come on then, lets get this goin'." Working with Wren, Vega went about lighting the yellow dragon wood, placing the hood in the correct place and ensuring that the whole thing was set up as she'd been shown. "That right with the mirrors?" Vega asked Doran. "The alchemification were all you, after all." She smiled at the professor and briefly touched his arm. "Great job," she said. That was all, but it was worth to say.

It should - if everything they did had worked - it should send out a beacon to the ships on the water - letting all of them know where the land was. It should also give a sense of hope and optimism, as Doran had used her blood to imbue the light with abilities granted to her by the Immortals who saw fit to bless her. "In your name, Xiur, an' Daia, an' Qylios," Vega whispered as she held on to Wren's hand and helped him. Then, she smiled down at the young man who had helped her and spoke, apparently seriously but Wren had learned that the swirling of Vega's eyes meant a lot. "Steady on, there, you. I nearly had an emotion." Her hand reached out and stroked his hair. "Only nearly, mind, an' I don't think anyone noticed."

[Doran]

When Darius thanked him and the others for their contributions, the son of Ziell inclined his head before he proceeded to thank his former student in turn, for Hopetoun, for the wonderful place that he had created here, and for his support. He briefly wondered if he should let the leader of Hopetoun walk up the stairs in front of him, but the human had already fallen in line, and thus he simply continued his ascent, glancing at the carvings on the railings as he did so. He didn’t know the meaning of those scenes, although the hat-wearing boy reminded him of Arlo, but he appreciated the quality of the craftmanship. Vega, he thought, had turned what could have been a simple beacon into a place of wonder.

He briefly let his gaze drift across Nella’s Kitchen, thinking about the jams that would be made there one trial, before he followed her again. It was just then that he saw it. The ship that Xiur had told Vega and him about was on its way to Hopetoun. There were other ships out there as well, of course, but none of them moved in that particular direction. A moment later, the stars that had lit up the sky up until the point began to fade, one after the other, and there was a sudden chill in the air.

The cold bothered the Mortalborn who had spent the last couple of arcs in Viden where the temperatures rarely rose above the freezing point comparatively little, although he could feel it, of course. He was more concerned with the mist that had appeared at the same time, quite abruptly, and that seemed to go on for miles. He briefly wondered what the source of the fog was, if it was, perhaps, supernatural in origin, before he decided that it didn’t matter. The beacon needed to be lit in order to guide the ship to safety in any case.

When Vega began to speak, the Mortalborn whose breath formed small clouds in front of his face, simply listened. Her words, he thought, were touching. He was momentarily surprised that a woman like her that gave so much hope to other people ever needed someone else to give her hope; it made sense though. Just because you helped so many other people didn’t mean that you never felt overwhelmed, and in any case, Wren sounded like the perfect person to light the Beacon. He smiled at the boy, and nodded at his father – he had met Hart before, when they had both been trying to save Scalvoris and the world, although the memories were inaccessible to him for the time being.

When Vega asked about the mirrors, he made a step forward in order to take one last look before he nodded. “Thank you”, he replied when she touched his arm and told him that he had done a great job. “You did great as well. You are giving people hope”, he added in a calm and serious tone of voice because it needed to be said in his opinion. Vega’s work so far had amazed him. He did not elaborate though, but fell silent again. There was work to do, after all. It would likely take a while until the ship had reached Faldrass and its passengers were safe. With that thought in mind, he nodded at Wren encouragingly and waited for him, and for Vega who helped him, to light the beacon.

As he waited, he said another prayer of his own, to Xiur and to Daia, the Immortals who had marked him, and finally to his father. Ziell had not marked him, and maybe never would, but he found himself agreeing with him to a great extent these trials. He prayed to all three of them, to hope and peace and companionship, and for those things, his gaze focused on the spot where the light would appear soon.

[Darius Baer]

Darius offered Vega a polite nod of acknowledgment when she thanked him. In truth, it wasn't his doing - all he had done was give the project his blessing - but that clearly meant something to the redhead, and the gratitude was appreciated, even if it hadn't been expected.

With each ascending step, Darius' view over the Faldrassian countryside and the Hollow Sea became ever further reaching. He could feel that the carving of the railings was exquisite, but his gaze was cast further afield, studying the horizon.

In an instant, he was taken back to his childhood, when he and his mother would climb the hills behind Scalvoris Town and look out over the coastline. They would look for the sails of whichever ship his father had most recently boarded - often after Darius himself had run down to the docks to wave the elder Baer off - though from the summit of the hills, it was not often easy to distinguish which ship was which in a sea lane as busy as the Hollow Sea.

It was those memories, at least in part, that had guided Darius to own a property in those same hills arcs later. By gifting himself a view that stretched along the coastline of Scalvoris, taking in Faldrass and Ishallr in the process, there was an often unspoken sense that Jean Baer was still with him, enjoying the vantage point, rather than at the docks below.

Darius Baer was an experienced sailor in his own right, now. No longer the young boy left behind on the main island while his father set sail, he now understood some of the perils of the ocean, and one of those was...

"Fog," he muttered grimly.

The only thing more dangerous to a mariner than the hazard before his eyes was the hazard that his eyes couldn't see.

Darius watched as the cloud slowly came down upon the ocean, thickening as it draped itself down like a blanket. In the process, it covered the sails of an inbound ship, appearing to swallow it whole.

The ship's impending arrival did not come as a shock - Vega had told him of it - but visitors were not a common sight for Hopetoun, and the bearded blond strained his eyes in a vain attempt to peer through the mist. It was all in vain, as he knew it would be, but in spite of it he tried anyway, and he knew the ship captain would be doing likewise.

Eventually, though, he knew he had to concede defeat, and he turned to Vega as the group reached the top, and waited patiently as she and Wren moved to light the beacon. Half a trill before he expected any light to take hold, he returned his gaze to the direction of the ship. It was breaks away from reaching the shore, but he hoped that the beacon might provide it with guidance and hope.

Immortals knew, Scalvorians and Rharnians alike could have done with a dose of both.

[Arlo Creede]

For a moment it was easy to forget Xiur's previous warning, which Arlo knew of through Vega's retelling. The night was clear, a perfect one and once lit, the beacon promised to shine as brightly as the stars themselves. Vega and himself, Wren, Darius and Doran and Hart, and a host of others looking on in hope that all went just as planned and expected.

And then, just as promised, it appeared that those weary souls on the approaching ship would need that beacon more than ever before if they had any hope of safely making land. "Don't worry," Arlo said and took Vega's hand in his. "This is exactly what you've been planning for. It will work." The cold rolling in with the fog caused goosebumps to rise along his exposed flesh, even as he'd observed the stars blinking out one by one.

He and Vega had traveled by sea a number of times by now. They'd faced their fair share of rough seas, stormy skies and murky conditions. There was never a guarantee, no matter how skilled or seasoned they were, that they'd come trough it completely intact. They'd been very lucky, the two of them, but there was always that chance. The same would be true for those souls who were just now looking for a glimpse of landfall.

"Pea soup," he muttered to himself, even as Vega helped Wren light the beacon. For whoever was at the helm of that ship, it must be like navigating through pea soup. Arlo was always amazed at Vega's way with children, and was again as he watched her reassuring the small boy. In truth, she must have more than a few nerves herself at present. She'd put so much of herself into this project, after all, and invested more than just a little emotion. She'd as good as poured herself into it.

Of course Doran's contributions, and those of any number of others, ought not be underestimated. This was all in all, by many a labor of love, of hope and optimism. There was little that could be done now but wait. Arlo turned his gaze back to the sea, once the beacon was lit and searched a horizon that, cloaked by a heavy blanket of damp fog as it was, couldn't been spotted at all. But he watched all the same, waiting in hopes of seeing a ship slice through and part the low hanging clouds. Surely, it would mean that the beacon had done it's job, and whoever was out there would have managed to see.