Nations on the Brink (storyline)/2024-09-22 - Sayilla's Coronation (log)

This is the log of the coronation of Sayilla, held on 22 September 2024.

Procession:
Trumpets herald the arrival of the procession, led by an honor guard dressed in ceremonial armor. Dancers prance in unison behind them, bedecked in glinting gold coins and trailing long gauzy sashes with their rhythmic movements.

A carpet of fragrant lilies and silver-edged ferns lines the green, their soft fragrance mingling with the delicate rain of gold and violet streamers drifting from above as the procession passes through the silver-cast clematis gate.

Scholars from the Library of Aies stand in quiet reverence, their long robes rustling as they bow their heads in honor, while the procession winds its way through the carpet of flowers lining the var.

Young acolytes from the Library of Aies murmur quietly amongst themselves, clutching scrolls and tomes as they witness the regal procession. As they pass, the glittering armor of the Sapphire Guard reflects the bright streamers falling from above.

The sound of the heralding trumpets grows quieter beneath the cheer of the crowd as the procession passes out onto the var.

Gardeners and students bedecked in the Arboretum s heraldry pass by carrying fresh bouquets. The air fills with the scent of wild jasmine, while cascading blossoms of nightshade and lilies are strewn across the street, plucked from the lace-wrapped bouquets.

Golden streamers shimmer in the sunlight, casting playful shadows on the procession as elven lords and ladies pass beneath arches draped with lavender and ivy, heading to the west.

Petals of azalea and periwinkle shower down from above, creating a soft mosaic of color on the white stone vars, while banners emblazoned with peacocks ripple in the breeze.

Floral garlands of crimson and white roses drape from windowsills, their lush beauty framed by ribbons of sapphire silk that drift down like rain as the royalty advances to the south.

Above the procession, delicate streamers of shimmering sapphire and silver unfurl from high towers, while below, the streets are awash with the pale pink petals of sweetly scented magnolias.

The lords and ladies of Veythorne Manor watch from ornate balconies, their figures draped in silks and velvet as they nod graciously to the passing royalty, the fragrance of lavender and roses rising from the cobblestones below.

The procession passes to the southeast.

An honor guard from the Sapphire Guard marches in perfect rhythm, their polished armor gleaming in the sun, as wide-eyed children perched on their parents shoulders cheer and wave to the passing assembly.

One wayward child ducks under the floral garlands cordoning off the crowds, waving a sparkler as she runs full-speed toward the graceful dancers, but she is quickly pulled back by a frantic-looking elf.

The procession passes to the southwest.

As the elven procession winds through the city, cascades of violets and orchids spill from the balconies, their vibrant hues matched by the swirling streamers that catch in the wind.

Another triple blast of trumpets heralds the procession as they pass through a tall arched opening, dancers twirling around drummers that keep a rhythmic beat.

The last of the procession passes through the arched opening.

Wide-eyed guests from distant lands stand on the edges of the procession route, marveling at the royal display as flower petals swirl around them.

The Sapphire Guard forms an unbroken line along the var, their ceremonial halberds raised in salute, while a group of young scholars nearby eagerly document the event, quills scratching against parchment.

The procession passes to the southwest.

Children wave brightly colored ribbons in the air, their laughter ringing through the streets as the march of the Sapphire Guard creates a rhythmic staccato upon the cobbled var.

Wandering merchants pause from serving those waiting to watch the procession pass, their heads bowed in respect as various dignitaries come into view.

The procession passes to the southeast.

Merchants stand proudly before their shops, each draped in banners of silver and sapphire, their faces alight with awe as the procession moves down the var.

The Sapphire Guard marches on to the beat of drums as the dancers twist and leap behind them, streamers caught in their elegant movements.

Tall, graceful arches entwined with morning glory vines mark the procession's path through the var, their vivid blue flowers swaying gently in the wind as streamers of gold unfurl overhead.

The lords and ladies follow the marching honor guard to the south.

Children scatter handfuls of silken flower petals -- roses, starblossoms, and bright corylian daisies before the feet of those passing within the procession.

The procession passes with much pomp, flashes of fine jewelry and fabric in the crowd as they make their way to the courtyard admist the rain of streamers and flower petals.

The Sapphire Guard uniformly moves to the sides and the dancers gracefully bow in two rows as the procession proceeds to the pavilion.

A herald announces, "Please make your way to the pergolas."

A child runs through waving a sparkler while chasing a screaming peahen.

A voice calls out, "Please make your way to the pergolas if you wish to WATCH the coronation in the pavilion."

Coronation:
A contingent of delegates begin to arrive, the half-krolvin and giantmen greeting one another while the dark elven and dwarven pair admire the banners. The aelotoi and erithian pair stop to gaze at the verdant ivy, leaving the gnomes to discuss the construction of the throne. The halfling and human delegates wave excitedly at Aeriadrn as the seneschal smiles in greeting.

Clearing his throat, the herald calls out, "Baron Dunrith Malwind of Vornavis accompanied by The Margravine of the Sea Princess, High Lady Kynsella A'Vatale of County Torre, both of the Turamzzyrian Empire."

A distinguished pair of humans walk in. The Baron offering his arm to the Margravine, who accepts it. Together, they traverse the room at a measured pace and take their seats.

Clearing his throat, the herald calls out, "Lord Salnim Malwind the Eastern Sentinnel of the Turamzzyrian Empire, escorted by Guard Captain Gurbah Klaah."

Towering over his counterpart, a half-centaur ogre moves through the assembly at the side of a human male with reddish brown hair. The pair move to the rows along the back of the assemblage where the bulk of the guard will not obstruct the view of those in attendance.

Projecting his voice over the assembly, the herald calls out, "Lady Athalia Aricia Malwind of Vornavis Barony in the Turamzzyrian Empire escorted by Dame Jarnsaixa Vargrdoittr the Knight Bachelorette of the Sun Throne and Captain of the Vornavian Guard."

Arriving side by side, a towering giantwoman in full armor escorts a petite human woman into the area. While the taller woman carries an air of heightened scrutiny to her surroundings, the much smaller woman has a warmth and kindness that is enhanced by a small smile when she glances up to find familiar faces in the surrounding pergolas.

His voice ringing out clearly over the crowd, the herald announces, "His Imperial Majesty Aurmont Chandrennin Anodheles, Emperor of the Turamzzyrian Empire, Sentinel of the West, Duke of Selanthia, Duke of Kezmon Isle, and High Seat of House Anodheles."

The Emperor arrives, flanked by heavily armed guards in resplendent armor. They are led by a knight in golvern plate with kohl-rimmed eyes, her raven hair cut short.

The herald calls out, "The Master Index of the Inquisitors, Inquisitor Ciradyl, the Master of the Index; Inquisitor Eshenesra, the Argent Peacock; Inquisitor Syearris, the Sapphire Thorn; and, Inquisitor Vaelynsa, the Shadowed Briar."

Four figures in matching, formal robes of peacock blue and ebon silk glide solemnly into the pavilion and stand together behind the rows of brocade-padded chairs.

Clearing his throat, the herald calls out, "Lady Chisma Calanthe of House Loenthra."

Inclining her head politely as she arrives, an elven woman bedecked in varying shades of violet and plum curtsies as she enters. Moving to one of the rows of seats, she politely stands with her hands clasped behind her back.

The herald calls out, "High Lday Celcyn Laevintel Ardenai, Darkling Elder of the Juniper, Ambassador of the Court of Ta'Ardenai, and her apprentice, Lady Aellel."

Two Ardenai elves walk in, one following slightly behind the other. They make their way to a row of brocade-padded chairs and take their place.

The herald calls out, "Lord Eruien Lithavir, the Living Mirror and Most Esteemed Representative of Ta'Loenthra."

His back bared to reveal a painted scene of intensely violet beleria, Eruien enters and graciously bows before moving to one of the rows of seats.

Athalia idly toes with one of the white roses in her hair, her eyes shifting upward to the eastern pergola.

The herald calls out, "Lady Naevys Eilstina, the Representative of the Rose Throne."

A young elven woman glides in, stopping briefly to nod to the delegates as Naevys sits alongside Eruien.

The herald calls out, "Lord Legionnaire Commander Jaranzair Nashal Vaalor."

An older, crimson clad elf walks in with squared shoulders, pausing to turn toward the entrance to the pavilion, his hands folded behind his back.

Projecting his voice over the assembly, the herald calls out, "Lady Leisette Nalfein, daughter of Rhyosyn and Gaendel Nalfein, Right Hand of House Eilstina."

Slipping gracefully through the entry, the elven woman glides down the aisle towards the herald. With a poisonous smile, she whispers something to the man that causes him to blanch. Never allowing her aloof countenance to slip, she makes her way to one of the rows closest to the throne and waits with hands lightly clasped before her.

Gasen attempts to slip in unnoticed, slinking his way towards an empty chair.

Master Zahiris's group just arrived.

Lihukshi looks thoughtfully at Zahiris.

Zahiris says, "Ah! Here we are."

Perigourd whispers to the group, "He was found upon the Flotilla and has been making ammends."

Lihukshi asks, "Perhaps something less crowded, my friend?"

Zahiris exclaims, "But this is where the excitement is!"

Lihukshi quietly says, "Indeed."

The herald stands tall as he announces, "Her Majesty Queen Rhosyn Nalfein, Monarch of the Rose Throne and HIs Majesty, King Qalinor the Sovereign Commander of the Crimson Legion."

A rosesilk-clad elf arrives, alongside a contingent of well-dressed women. She approaches the throne, curtsying low before making her way to an unoccupied section of chairs. Qalinor offers his arm as she seats herself, the King moving to stand beside Jaranzair.

Zahiris says, "The Sovereign Commander is looking sharp."

The herald announces, his voice booming over the crowd, "Lord Gilenir Veythorne and Lord Ionlas Chesylrae."

A pair of ornately attired elves walk in, initially tossing rose petals at their feet, but the shorter one throws a handful at the back of the taller one's head just before they head over to seats.

Lihukshi says, "As is the way."

Lihukshi says, "Not all of us could be spared for this little... foray."

The herald announces, "Lord Rassaniel Avelleur."

No one enters. Several heads turn toward the entrance.

Zahiris says, "These do not happen all that often. Well, more often than we have them, but still! I had to come see it."

Ionlas clears his throat and leans in to whisper something to the herald.

Gilenir grins sheepishly.

Lihukshi nods.

The herald's booming voice adds, "Sends his warmest regards to those gathered and sincerest congratulations."

Vanathys allows, "He was out rather late."

Vanathys says, "I expect he may have forgotten to roll out of bed."

Aeriadrn nods to a trio of sapphire-clad heralds, bowing his head slightly before tapping the end of his feather-carved cane against the ground thrice in succession.

Aeriadrn formally announces, "Ladies and gentlemen, citizens, and guests of the Shining City, we welcome you to the coronation of Lady Sayilla Javilerre."

Aeriadrn says, "We welcome all visiting dignitaries and delegates to our city-state, we consider ourselves fortunate for your presence and welcome you to the Shining City."

Aeriadrn bows his head in acknowledgment across the various rows of chairs, smiling as he continues.

Aeriadrn says, "We remind the audience that all weaponry must remain sheathed in the presence of Her Illumination, and for the entirety of the celebration."

Aeriadrn says, "We also remind the audience that we expect decorum and civility while in the presence of the Mirror Incumbent and Her entourage."

Aeriadrn takes a measured look at the audience before bowing his head briefly, then proceeds to lean upon his cane as he approaches the right side of the wisteria-draped throne.

The sapphire-clad herald announces, "Captains Aertinus and Arastir Avelleur."

The captains arrive, each bowing in turn before rising, Arastir gently ribbing Aertinus before standing in front of a pair of unoccupied seats.

The sapphire-clad herald announces, "Lord Commander Murstyr Javilerre."

Murstyr enters, gazing towards the wisteria-draped throne for a moment before finding his place beside the Avelleurs.

The sapphire-clad herald announces, "Lady Ardtin Greyvael."

Lady Ardtin arrives, leaning on her cane as she and Ryossa take their places within the crowd.

The sapphire-clad herald announces, "Lady Myasara Illistim."

Lady Myasara enters the pavilion, approaching Ardtin as she stands beside her.

Ionlas casts a sidelong glance at Ardtin.

Ionlas whispers something to Gilenir.

Ardtin gazes in amusement at Ionlas.

Aeriadrn nods to a herald positioned by the velvet-draped arch, the blonde-haired elf ushering in a member of the Sapphire Guard.

Gilenir nods in greeting at Ardtin.

The guardsman stands silent for a moment before raising a beribboned trumpet to his lips, the reverberating fanfare echoing across the plaza as he steps back, lowering his instrument to his side.

Penelia says, "They all look stunning."

The sapphire-clad herald announces, "Mirror Incumbent, Lady Sayilla Javilerre."

The herald bows as Sayilla arrives, the young woman flashing a nervous smile at Murstyr as she takes in a deep inhalation of air, straightening her posture as she approaches the wisteria-draped throne.

Sayilla slowly steps upon the platform, turning to face the audience as she seats herself upon the wisteria-haloed throne.

Jaranzair just barely smiles.

Aeriadrn taps his cane thrice in succession as the audience seats themselves.

Aeriadrn formally announces, "With adherence to Illistimi tradition, the Council of Thrones and Mirror Incumbent Sayilla have chosen the ceremonies to perform prior to Lady Javilerre's crowning."

Aeriadrn formally continues, "These ceremonies carry the traditions of the Illistimi people, a reminder of our heritage and to honor those that have come before us, and to always focus onward to better days."

Eruien lays his hand upon Naevys's hand, his attention turned to Sayilla.

Aeriadrn formally declares, "They have chosen the ceremonies of Aethir'Elaes, Aethir'Lirsela, and Aethir'Selaeth, may Sayilla's reign be one of peace and accord."

Aeriadrn glances over at Sayilla and gives her a small wink before he continues.

Aeriadrn formally says, "The ceremony of Aethir'Elaes will be presented by the Council of Thrones... and Lord Gasen Nellereune."

Vanathys gazes up into the heavens.

Vanathys murmurs, "Really?"

Gasen reaches up and rubs the back of his head for a moment, standing as he approaches the insignia-embroidered step.

Gasen bows low to Sayilla, rising up slowly as he turns to face the audience.

A moment of awkward silence fills the pavilion before Arastir coughs loudly into his hand, startling Gasen as he clears his throat.

Gasen nervously says, "The Remembrance Ceremony, or Aethir'Elaes, honors those who have come before us."

Gasen says, "These individuals may have been lost since our last meeting, or simply moved onto other things, but regardless are still honored for influencing the Argent Mirror's life."

Gasen attempts to loosen his ruff.

Gasen uncomfortably says, "As a representative of the ceremony, I was charged with the duty of learning more about the individuals we have lost, committing their stories and their lives to my memory, to better understand their meaning within Say-Lady Javilerre's life."

Zahiris says, "Then he will surely be captured because..."

Lihukshi whispers something to Zahiris.

Lihukshi leans back.

Zahiris says, "Well, pirates ought to be captured."

Gasen takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as he continues.

Gasen says, "Lady Kasendra Malwind was a loving wife, a dear friend, and a diplomat whose presence we were robbed of almost two years ago."

Athalia folds her hands.

Gasen says, "Her light shines on in the stories that were shared with me, the lives she touched through her relief efforts. A selfless young lady whose influence will continue through those who knew her."

Gasen fidgets in place.

Gasen turns to face Sayilla, raising his chin up slightly.

Gasen states, "I, Gasen Nellereune, will continue to honor her legacy by continuing her humanitarian efforts. I want to uh... assist those who cannot help themselves and become a better person."

Gasen awkwardly adds, "So I present to you this pouch of Kasendra's sunflower seeds, to represent spreading her joy and enthusiasm to all corners of Elanthia."

Gasen quickly places the pouch of seeds into Sayilla's hands then steps down, Aeriadrn promptly gathering the gift and placing it in a nearby basket.

Zahiris mildly says, "He has time to grow into a better pirate, then."

Gasen quickly stammers, "Thank you for granting me this opportunity."

Salnim closes his eyes for a moment, but he keeps his face appropriately neutral. Lines of strain leap along his jaw.

Gasen swiftly steps away from the throne, slipping back into his nearby seat.

Lihukshi dryly says, "From pirate to philanthropist, what a marvel of the modern Illistim."

Ardtin stifles a chuckle as Myasara catches Ryossa's attention, the small gnome placing a hand in Ardtin's and squeezes, the trio rising together as they approach the wisteria-draped throne.

Qalinor whispers something to Jaranzair.

Jaranzair nods slightly at Qalinor.

The trio of women approach the wisteria-draped throne, bowing their heads in acknowledgement towards Sayilla before turning to face the audience.

Ardtin formally says, "The Aethir'Elaes honors those who cannot stand with us, their memories kept gently tucked close to our hearts."

Ardtin says, "We also honor the memories and experiences of those who still remain, hoping that their wisdom will guide us throughout our reign and beyond."

Myasara agrees, "House Illistim's motto is 'Knowledge is the key to eternity." How can we better serve our people if we do not continually strive to learn and experience from our predecessors.

Ardtin formally says, "As the Council of Thrones, it is our duty to pass down our wisdom to the next Argent Mirror, our thoughts and advice carrying over from centuries of rule."

Myasara surreptitiously glances at Aeriadrn and quips, "Also how to escape your Seneschal for a moment of peace."

Eruien gazes at Ardtin.

Aeriadrn shakes his head at Myasara and clucks his tongue.

Ardtin clucks her tongue at Myasara, glancing to the side as she grins.

Eruien chuckles.

Speaking to Sayilla, Ardtin continues, "And so we present our Mirror Incumbent with our histories, a series of letters and journals that are filled with our reflections of our reigns, stories untold, and advice we hope brings you a fraction of tranquility as you grow into your own."

Ryossa steps down to retrieve a lace-wrapped parcel of letters and leather-bound journals, cautiously approaching Sayilla as she hands them over with a nervous smile.

Sayilla smiles as Aeriadrn carefully tucks the parcel into a nearby basket, the young woman gathering Ryossa's hands in hers as she whispers into the gnome's ear. A bright red blush spreads across Ryossa's face as she giggles, stepping back down as she curtsies.

Speaking warmly to Sayilla, Ardtin says, "Experience comes with time, and we have no doubt you are destined for great things."

Myasara sincerely agrees, "And we look forward to being there with you, every step of the way."

Zahiris whispers something to Lihukshi.

Aeriadrn formally announces, "We will now begin the Aethir'Lirsela, The Ceremony of Peace."

Aeriadrn taps his cane upon the ground as Murstyr and Myasara rise, stepping towards the throne.

Murstyr states, "The Aethir'Lirsela, or Peaceful Ceremony, celebrates the transition from one Mirror to the next and acknowledges the strengths of the Mirror Incumbent. Afterwards, the envoys will present their gifts and tokens as a showing of support for our new Argent Mirror."

Murstyr pauses for a moment as he glances at Sayilla.

Murstyr affectionately says, "I was awarded the honor of extolling the strengths and virtues of my niece, though I understand many of you have already had the opportunity to learn about Sayilla."

Murstyr amusedly says, "I thought instead, I could share a story about a young Sayilla and the maeltijd."

Gilenir stifles a chuckle, shifting his legs slightly as he dodges the butt of Ardtin's walking stick.

Jaranzair chuckles.

Jaranzair clears his throat.

Qalinor glances at Jaranzair.

Ionlas smirks at Gilenir.

Murstyr begins, "Young Sayilla spent her early years running across the stones of the Keep, confounding her nursemaid as she was equally likely to be causing trouble as she was surprising us with her thirst for knowledge beyond the walls of Illistim."

Ionlas whispers something to Gilenir.

Gilenir shrugs at Ionlas.

Murstyr continues, "One morning, Sayilla watched as a sheepherder wandered through the portcullis, the burghal gnome gently guiding his flock to his destination."

Murstyr says, "Sayilla, ever the diplomat, offered to assist the gnome in his task, guiding him to some Var where he was to discuss business with a noblewoman whose employ he was under."

Murstyr says, "For her kindness, the sheepherder offered her a small maeltijd lamb, the delicate creature bleating in confusion as young Sayilla squealed in excitement... causing the maeltijd to do as they are wont to do, and that is fainting immediately on the spot."

Naevys laughs softly, trying to hide her amusement.

Murstyr amusedly says, "In a panic, Sayilla turned and ran as quickly as her slipper-covered feet could to Marroux and Haert, practically dragging Harolis back as she lamented the fate of the little lamb."

Murstyr says, "To her surprise and Harolis' amusement, the lamb had miraculously recovered from its demise, moving to chew gently at the bows upon Sayilla's slipper as she wept tears of relief."

Murstyr mentions, "Sayilla did attempt to sneak her new fluffy companion into the Keep, much to the irritation of a certain Seneschal, but ultimately we agreed that she could visit the lamb at the farmstead in Sylvarrraend, and thus her love of diplomacy, and animals, flourished."

Murstyr sincerely says, "The Mirror Incumbent and I share the bonds of blood, this is true, but there is no prouder moment than to watch this young woman flourish into a regal Argent Mirror and we are better for it as a nation."

Murstyr bows low towards Sayilla as he steps down, allowing Myasara the floor.

Sayilla laughs softly as she smiles at Murstyr, placing her left hand over her heart.

Myasara turns to face Sayilla as she opens her hand, revealing a tiny wood-carved maeltijd. She places the figurine in Sayilla's hand with a wink before turning back to face the audience.

Vanathys says, "I can imagine that being terrifying for a child."

Myasara says, "As the Lord Commander has stated, many of us have had the pleasure of working alongside Lady Javilerre, either through her various diplomatic endeavors or her heartfelt efforts to assist citizens and visitors alike within the Shining City."

Myasara says, "Sayilla has been integral in ensuring we continue our diplomatic efforts, assisting our allies in the West even in the face of adversity."

Myasara says, "She is resilient, forever on a quest to learn as much about this world as possible."

Myasara jokingly says, "She is stubborn, fighting for what is right when others would have conceded."

Myasara firmly says, "And she is kind, a friend to all those who are fortunate enough to be drawn into her light."

As Myasara concludes her short speech, she turns and the women embrace briefly before Myasara and Murstyr return to their seats.

Aeriadrn taps his cane upon the ground as the elven envoys rise in turn, each one holding colorful parcels as they approach the wisteria-draped throne.

Aeriadrn taps his cane against the wood-planked floor before he announces, "And now the elven envoys and families of Illistim will present their tokens of support for our Mirror Incumbent."

The elven envoys rise from their seats, alongside Gilenir and Ionlas, each elf approaching the throne as they bow and curtsy in acknowledgement.

High Lady Laevintel steps forward and curtsies gracefully, the train of her forest green gown pooling about her.

As High Lady Laevintel rises, she presents a peacock blue celsylk package tied with an umber and ebon velvet ribbon to the Seneschal.

Celcyn says, "The Court of Ta'Ardenai, today in its Autumnal Season, presents you with this small token of Our Esteem. Our best jewelers have crafted a set of silver and forest moonstone jewelry befitting The Argent Mirror."

Celcyn says, "In addition, we wish to offer the services of one of our pre-eminent myomancers to the Argentate and its Council. She will present herself to you or your representative at The Argent's will."

The Darkling Elder curtsies once more, then glides back to her seat.

Rising from her place of waiting, Leisette steps forward and glides to a position before Sayilla, her hands holding something in shadow behind her.

Leisette clearly says, "It is with great honor that I stand before you today at the hour of your ascendancy to Mirror."

Leisette inclines her head respectfully towards Sayilla, and then turns to face the assemblage.

Leisette says, "As we gather to witness this momentous occasion, I wish to share a story -- one that speaks not only to the heart of our beloved Lady but to the essence of our shared resilience."

Leisette squares her shoulder, holding her head high as she lets her gaze slip across those gathered, one eyebrow quicked slightly as she turns her gaze briefly to the surrounding pergolas.

Leisette slowly says, "In the cold, turbulent waters that sought to claim her over a year ago, Lady Sayilla was not merely a victim; she was a beacon of hope."

Jaranzair furrows his brow.

Leisette grins wryly.

Leisette says, "Mere moments from being rescued and, her skin still cool from the frigid waters, her first thoughts were for those she had left behind, particularly for the health of Dame Jarnsaixa, who had been injured."

Leisette nods at Jarnsaixa.

Jarnsaixa frowns.

Leisette wryly says, "With unwavering concern, she moved as if she would climb off that boat and into the waters in hopes of reassure those left behind of her safety."

Leisette pauses, her head canting to the side in a rather feline gesture.

Leisette says, "Yet, in that moment of instinctive bravery, I felt a whisper of caution. It was still perilous for her to be seen so soon after her ordeal. Despite my words of caution, I watched her determination to put others at ease."

The subtlest of frowns mars Leisette s complexion for the briefest of moments.

Leisette says, "Her will and fight to ensure the care, health, and safety of others is a testament to this beautiful woman. I admit I felt both pride and concern, for it is vital to balance our care for others with our own safety."

Leisette allows her hands to fall before her, and a worn and faded piece of footwear comes into display.

Today, I present to you a token of this journey -- a single boot, the only remnant of her harrowing experience. The other was surrendered to the sea, a symbol of sacrifice and survival. Let this boot serve as a reminder to always care for those around you, yet to heed the voice of reason that encourages you to prioritize your own well-being.

Leisette turns, presenting the boot to Sayilla.

Leisette says, "May this gift accompany you on your path, Lady Sayilla, guiding you with the wisdom of your heart and the strength of your spirit."

Leisette winks at Sayilla.

Leisette glides back to her seat.

Sayilla laughs softly, trying to hide her amusement.

Jaranzair nods approvingly at Leisette.

Jaranzair takes a measured step forward, his gaze settled on Sayilla.

Qalinor gazes at Jaranzair.

Speaking in Elven to Sayilla, Jaranzair begins, "Like your uncle, I still can picture the young child you once were, tearing through my home on summer visits like an unstoppable force of nature with boundless energy and curiosity."

Speaking in Elven, Jaranzair mildly adds, "Trying my admittedly limited patience with endless questions."

A hint of a smile pulls at the corners of Jaranzair's lips.

Zahiris raises an eyebrow.

Speaking to Jaranzair, Sayilla reminds, "I was told we must always pursuit knowledge, Lord Legionnaire Commander."

Speaking to Sayilla, Jaranzair says, "Through the bond of our families, I was blessed to watch you grow from that mischievous girl to a remarkable woman with qualities we all should seek to hold within ourselves if we wish to flourish within the Nations."

Jaranzair nods slightly at Sayilla.

Jaranzair evenly continues, "Your thoughtfulness, resiliency, kindness, altruism, and steadfast resolve for your ideals will be the hallmark of your reign, and we will all be the better for it."

Speaking sincerely to Sayilla, Jaranzair says, "It is now that you grow from that remarkable woman to a leader that I know will continue to be that unstoppable force, and blessed we will be to witness it."

Speaking to Sayilla, Jaranzair says, "It is my most sincere honor to present to you these gifts from My Sovereign and the people of Ta'Vaalor--a bolt of aqilorn, crafted by our gnomish citizens in our enclave, and a lasimor crown from King Qalinor's private grove, adorned with glimmergless from the Wendwillows of Neartofar Forest. Included is a selection of honey from Yasrenila."

Two gold-armored legionnaires approach from the audience, handing Sayilla a pair of stacked gilt boxes and a bolt of shimmering aqilorn. They offer her courteous bows before disappearing back into the assembled crowd.

Jaranzair sincerely says, "We look forward to rebuilding and strengthening the partnership of our city-states, and we are certain you will be the honor, pride, and glory of Ta'Illistim."

Jaranzair snaps to attention and crisply strikes his chest with a closed fist in a display of respect to Sayilla.

Qalinor nods once.

Jaranzair takes a step back to rejoin the other envoys.

Jaranzair folds his hands behind his back.

Speaking nervously to Ionlas, Gilenir mouths, "How am I supposed to follow him?"

Eruien leans toward Jaranzair and wryly whispers, "I am meant to follow a heartfelt display from you?" He flashes an impish grin at the reproachful look that answers him.

Eruien formally says, "I, Lord Eruien Lithavir, the Most Esteemed Representative and Living Canvas of Ta'Loenthra, on this most beauteous and auspicious of days, offer the greatest and sincerest of felicitations on behalf of Queen Cadhla for your magnificent ascension to the throne of Ta'Illistim."

Ionlas turns his face toward Gilenir's shoulder, his own shoulders shaking as he struggles to stifle his laughter.

Jaranzair lets out a slow breath, subtly shaking his head behind the Loenthran elf.

Eruien continues, "We--that is, Queen Cadhla, the people of Ta'Loenthra, and myself, of course--support your glorious rise and hold the utmost faith that you will attain undeniable success and prosperity in the time of your reign."

Eruien sincerely promises, "I vow, along with my queen, to provide council as needed to achieve your vision for your illustrious city-state. Together, we will most assuredly bring union to our shared hopes and dreams for the Elven Nations."

Aellel fidgets with the gossamer on her dress.

Eruien beckons with two fingers to a young attendant in the audience, his hand held down at his side.

The attendant comes forward with an aeunarad-framed portrait of Sayilla, vibrant with color and silvered with argent foil that limns the features and defines highlights.

Shaking with nerves, the attendant nearly drops the painting at Sayilla's feet, but catches it at the last moment. She turns a vivid red as she passes the portrait to Sayilla, hurrying back to the crowd to melt into it unseen.

Eruien winces slightly, then flashes Sayilla an apologetic grin.

Sayilla appears to be trying hard not to grin.

Eruien explains, "We gift to you my work, a portrait as we see you, with your colorful and free spirit, and the bright light you bring to not only your people but to each person whose life you so gracefully touch."

Eruien charmingly adds, "It is adorned with mirrored silver leaf such that we all can gaze upon it and see your fine qualities Lord Legionnaire Commander Jaranzair so astutely noted reflected upon us."

Eruien glances over his shoulder at Jaranzair.

Jaranzair gazes up into the heavens.

Eruien extends open hands while gracefully scraping his right leg behind to lean forward in a subtle bow of esteem to Sayilla.

Eruien steps back with the others, casting a sidelong glance to Jaranzair, but the Vaalorian does not meet his gaze.

Gilenir politely explains, "This fine specimen is the result of the houses of Chesylrae, Veythorne, Javilerre, Avelleur, and Nellereune, working together in conjunction to create a harmonious work of art."

Gilenir pauses for a moment, realizing his gift isn't here.

Gilenir summons a pair of pages, who wheel in the five-braided tree sapling, stopping the cart abruptly before running over his toes.

Gilenir nods firmly.

Ionlas nods at Gilenir.

Gilenir explains, "Through the studies of pedology, to the use of alchemical magic, the sweat of building a proper structure for the specimen, and continual studies of previous horticulturists, we hope our small arboreal companion here will serve as a symbol of our conjoined council."

Gilenir awkwardly continues, "The leaves, in time, will provide shade for those who visit our city while the trunk provides a place of quiet contemplation. The roots-the roots will... I've lost my thought process."

Speaking amusedly to Gilenir, Ionlas whispers aloud, "The roots will nourish the gift for centuries to come, as you will nourish our people for the length of your reign."

Gilenir lets out a sigh of relief.

Gilenir abruptly concludes, "So we, the Yet-to-be-named Council, look forward to this unexplored terrain of a new monarchy. Thank you for your time."

Gilenir stands before Sayilla for a few moments, gesturing at the tree as he attends to the leaves. Aeriadrn begins to slowly tap his cane and Gilenir suddenly bows, pushing the cart back to the page before moving back to his seat.

Aeriadrn formally announces, "And our final ceremony, the Aethir'Selaeth."

Aeriadrn formally states, "The Shining Ceremony, or Aethir'Selaeth, is a celebration of our newest Argent Mirror and how they will represent the Shining City."

A herald lifts his voice to the air, announcing "Clanswoman Lyudmila Nikesthtal, daughter of Kalimor Wenger, and Lorekeeper of the T'Kirem Bear Clan."

Lyudmila rises from the assemblage, her form towering over the elves that surround her. She raps her right fist upon her left shoulder three times in respect, before offering a deep bow to Sayilla. She carefully removes a bundle of lightweight fabric from her bag: a periwinkle and sapphire blue bundle.

The voice of Lyudmila says, "Our clan wished to honor you at this moment and so we have woven the aneialiri tartan. The blue bands represent the transition from one Mirror to the next, the moment we are living in, while the white and yellow setts present peace and rebirth respectively."

Aellel cranes her head to get a closer look at the bundle.

Lyudmila says, "We have forgone the favored fringe of the tartan and replaced it with a helical pattern of interwoven crimson, hunter green, amber, and lilac to represent the unity of the Elven Houses. Lastly, a delicate strip of mithril wire winds through the piece, a reminder of the unity between the dwarves and kindred that have stood at Illistim's side for centuries."

Lyudmila bows once more, saying, "May this gift serve you well in the years ahead."

As Lyudmila returns to her seat, the other delegates rise, signalling to their assistants as each exchanges parcels between them.

A tall dark elven woman steps forward alongside a curly-haired human, the pair offering a potted mana iris and Vornavian orange sapling, each one complimenting the other's skill as they place them alongside the baskets on either side of the throne.

A fur-mantled half-krolvin approaches the throne with his fellow delegates, the sylvan and halfling women curtsying in greeting. The half-krolvin offering a glass vessel filled with colorful fish, the women each carrying woven baskets of seeds and dried gourds.

A pair of gnomes follow next, the apotl-clad forest gnome carefully producing a fine mesh cage of humming honey bees, his burghal gnome counterpart gently prodding a gnome-sized automaton brandishing twin watering cans.

The dwarven delegate approaches alongside his aelotoi and erithian counterparts, bowing as he presents the parchment-written plans for an elaborate gardening system, the barrels conjoined by rings of metal. Pastel-colored bolts of wisteria-patterned flyrsilk and several jadewood teadragon-shaped bowls follow, each gift graciously accepted as Sayilla nods her head in gratitude.

A herald raises his voice to the air, announcing, "Dame Jarnsaixa Vargrdoittr the Knight Bachelorette of the Sun Throne and Captain of the Vornavian Guard."

Jarnsaixa rises from her place within the assemblage, her ceremonial armor catching the light to dazzling affect. With slow steps, she moves to stand before the throne, a smile in her eyes though her expression is serious.

Jarnsaixa draws a slender and short sheath from the folds of her plaid, the mithril hilt sticking out of it a peace knot tied by a braid of hemp and rawhide.

Jarnsaixa says, "For those times when you slip past your guard, as we both know you like to do." Her lips quirk upward in a companionable smile. "So that you are never without a physical away to defend yourself."

The giantman stands tall, her left fist rising to knock three times on the right shoulder of hear breastplate. With stiff formality, she bows deeply before Sayilla and then, abruptly, turns away. As she makes her way back to her seat, a glimmer appears in the corners of her eyes and a smile stretches across her face.

A herald raises his voice to the air, announcing, "Lady Athalia Aricia Malwind of Vornavis Barony in the Turamzzyrian Empire."

Fluid and graceful, Lady Athalia Malwind rises from her seat, gathering the ivory and marbled jade skirts of her gowns in hand as she makes her way through the surrounding chairs. Once at the aisle, she releases the fabric, causing the Vornavian silk to rustle and sway in a swirl around her feet.

Athalia respectfully says, "Your Reflection," She lowers herself into a formal courtesy, her skirts pooling around her in a fall of ivory silk. "I have been asked by Magister Odelgarde Brindlestraffe to present to you this small token." She rises, drawing a small pouch from the folds of her skirts and cups it in her hands for a moment. "It is a blend of herbs from my mother's garden, some dried petals for my late sister Lady Kasendra Chandrennin Malwind, and some seasalts from the Vornavian Coastline."

Athalia smiles lightly and hands over the small package.

A herald raises his voice, announcing, "His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Aurmont Anodheles."

The Emperor's guards part so that he can approach the throne. As he passes their leader, he gives her a nearly imperceptible nod and she relaxes, if slightly. He offers a formal bow, carefully modulated to relay respect between equals, to Sayilla. He presents her with a small crystalline sphere, its hues reminiscent of the sunrise.

Eruien lays his hand on Naevys's arm.

Aurmont says, "This is a small token of our esteem. This communication crystal has been magically attuned by our finest magisters to allow us to communicate across distances at your leisure. I look forward to our continued growth together as we explore the shared interests of our nations."

The Emperor smiles, inclines his head slightly, and returns to his guards.

Aeriadrn and Sayilla share a few words amongst the delegates before they return to their seats, each one stopping as they awkwardly attempt to arrange themselves amongst the crowded rows.

Aeriadrn formally announces, "And for our final presentation, we call upon the schoolchildren of the Shining City."

Qalinor glances around the area.

As the seneschal taps his cane, the sounds of nervous giggling erupt around you, echoing off the pergola as several schoolchildren jump off their seats.

The young children squeak out polite "Excuse mes!" and "Pardons!" as they step across the lawn, some skipping while others sprint in a race towards the pavilion.

The schoolchildren begin to simultaneously speak, their loud voices drowning one another out before their instructor raises one finger, the children mimicking her movement as they quiet down.

Qalinor gazes thoughtfully at a group of squirming schoolchildren.

A diminutive child emerges from the group, casually climbing up the single step to face Sayilla.

Sayilla stifles her laughter as she is caught face-to-face with the diminutive child.

The green-eyed child loudly declares, "We wrote all of our wishes for you on these toads and peahens. We hope you are a great Argent Mirror and uh, have lots of fun." She nods enthusiastically along with her classmates as they all approach Sayilla, dropping handfuls of origami amphibians and avians into her open hands.

Before the instructor begins to direct them back to the pergolas, the excited children begin to chatter as they glance over the audience.

"Argent Mirror Sayilla, I wished that King Qalinor would give you wyvern!"

Qalinor laughs with delight, his eyes full of merriment.

"I wisheded that you could live in a Keep made out of sweets!"

"One time I saw an airship in Ta'Loenthra and it looked like it was made out of candy."

Speaking in Elven, Qalinor agrees, "Perhaps I should have."

"You're really pretty."

With a long sigh, the instructor finally begins to redirect the children back across the lawn as they join their guardians once again.

Sayilla gathers her handfuls of origami and stands as she adds them to a basket held out by the seneschal.

Kynsella holds back a delighted laugh, forcing her features into something reasonably solemn.

Aeriadrn places the basket alongside the others, straightening his posture as he taps his cane thrice in succession.

Aeriadrn formally declares, "Our chosen ceremonies have thus concluded, the celebration of the past, the present, and the future of our Shining City represented through words and actions."

Aeriadrn taps his cane down hard against the ground as he faces Sayilla.

Aeriadrn formally declares, "Do you, Sayilla Javilerre, vow to protect the people who call the Shining City home? To dedicate your life in the pursuit of knowledge for the betterment of our citizens?"

Speaking firmly to Aeriadrn, Sayilla declares, "I do."

Aeriadrn formally inquires, "Do you swear to uphold our law and continue to forge bonds with our allies for the betterment of all peoples?"

Speaking firmly to Aeriadrn, Sayilla repeats, "I do."

Aeriadrn formally says, "And with your oath, I formally invest you with the powers of your station."

Aeriadrn nods towards one of the pages, the young lady approaching the throne as she holds her brocaded cushion aloft. The seneschal carefully removes the crown as Sayilla removes her coronet, bowing her head down as he places the pearl and diamond-rayed crown upon her.

Aeriadrn formally states, "Behold your Illumination, Argent Mirror Sayilla, the first of Her name."

Aeriadrn breaks out into a large grin as he raises his hands up to applaud.

Sayilla drops into a deep curtsy, moving smoothly as her arms sweep grandly to her sides.

Gilenir whistles a complicated ditty, impressing you with his virtuosity.

Gilenir surreptitiously glances at Ardtin.

Celcyn smiles warmly, clapping with approval as she sweeps into a low curtsy.

Qalinor nods at Sayilla.

Sayilla amusedly says, "I thank everyone one of you for attending."

Sayilla quickly adds, "But you must all be famished."

Aeriadrn mentions, "Thimwi mentioned that the northeast lawn is ready for an influx of visitors."

Myasara says, "And the band has begun to play on the northwest lawn."

Sayilla brightly says, "Then we shall all celebrate together."