The image is received, and with it - with it and the grief - sympathy is given in turn. Deep, and with a sense of gratitude - for Elidibus to be here now, to be offering aid for those of the statue's own home.
It lasts for a few seconds, doesn't exactly leave, but the being's attention moves elsewhere, within itself - before then the connection between them expands onto a clearer level, the energy mimicked lessened by the presence of the statue's own.
It is stabbing pain, a headache, and the being does not delay:
'The bridge beside me leads to our home.' It is a voice, light-sounding, neither clear-defining as male nor female. Young, perhaps; somewhere around 20s to 30s. 'Something troubles our connection. I cannot speak to the hearts of the other islands. Forever Ones, we are called. Connected to our lands. Our people. Tell them, Hemla is fine - Hemla is I.'
There are flashes of images, memories: round houses set along a hill-like terrain, holes for windows in homes made in the hill itself. The inside of a building, large, with a concentric layout that gets smaller at the centre where a hearth lays. Satyr-like people sitting around here. A place of study. The home of the sages.
'Be careful,' they continue, a warning, one hurried. 'Your energy is not ours. The world rejects it. I do not understand, I will learn. Give time. Our school-' The sages show again- '-can aid. They aid you. We aid you.'
With this close a link, the gratitude - under the pain that comes with it, a migraine from two clashing energies that refuse to co-exist - stronger than before, before the being withdraws the link, giving Elidibus respite.
no subject
It lasts for a few seconds, doesn't exactly leave, but the being's attention moves elsewhere, within itself - before then the connection between them expands onto a clearer level, the energy mimicked lessened by the presence of the statue's own.
It is stabbing pain, a headache, and the being does not delay:
'The bridge beside me leads to our home.' It is a voice, light-sounding, neither clear-defining as male nor female. Young, perhaps; somewhere around 20s to 30s. 'Something troubles our connection. I cannot speak to the hearts of the other islands. Forever Ones, we are called. Connected to our lands. Our people. Tell them, Hemla is fine - Hemla is I.'
There are flashes of images, memories: round houses set along a hill-like terrain, holes for windows in homes made in the hill itself. The inside of a building, large, with a concentric layout that gets smaller at the centre where a hearth lays. Satyr-like people sitting around here. A place of study. The home of the sages.
'Be careful,' they continue, a warning, one hurried. 'Your energy is not ours. The world rejects it. I do not understand, I will learn. Give time. Our school-' The sages show again- '-can aid. They aid you. We aid you.'
With this close a link, the gratitude - under the pain that comes with it, a migraine from two clashing energies that refuse to co-exist - stronger than before, before the being withdraws the link, giving Elidibus respite.