"But you've seen! How we always find each other! In every life we ride!" He wheels closer you step out of his way. He wheels his throne to you, reaching out, nearly tumbling into the floor. Tether is a hallucinogenic there's no truth in the visions. Wrack: Your Relationship to the Fair King = 400 "Fair enough," he says, rapping his armrest. "The Fair King smiles, but not without effort. Wrack: Your Relationship to the Fair King = 300 You look out at the kaleidoscopic reaches of the High Wilderness. He looks up at you - were his eyes always so blue? He wheels his throne to a wall of charts you stand at his side. He laughs just as you heard him laugh at the station, when you first met. "The Fair King has a fine grip, and beams up at you. Wrack: Your Relationship to the Fair King = 200 Not dinner - but the time you have together. As you wait for dinner, he turns over his fork and wonders how much longer it will be. You remember the days you humble his more boastful recollections, and he puffs his cheeks as he always did. Was his hair always so snowy? Either way, you're glad to take the weight off your old legs. He wheels his throne to a stool, and bids you sit. You will get to the 'end' state of things (no more 'Of Wine' at Godfall, unlock SAY wakeful curios at Khan's Shadow and so on) much 'earlier' if you abuse the sleeping. "The Fair King holds you, and laughs as he did when you were children in boarding school. Sleep always removes 2 or 3 Yearning, Burning - so sleeping in the room makes sunlight smuggling still profitable. Triggers event: An Audience with the King Wrack: Your Relationship to the Fair King = 100 Strands of his red hair fall into his face - across his lips - but you kiss regardless. The Fair King kisses your forehead, and raises your lips. And it's there in the barn, as you idly play with a piece of straw, that you accept your crown. The Fair King lifts the crown from his head, and holds it out before him. He bids you kneel by his throne you oblige, and glance up at him. "The Fair King laughs as you have heard him laugh before, hundreds of years past, in Ireland. This event is triggered by choosing the The Fair King's Question option in An Audience with the King. We always find each other, and here we are again. The desire and burning kindled inside of us driving us along the way, and with this new joy now sitting on our souls we slept in peace for the first time."I know you've seen us. We are on the right path, this is the way to where we must go. There was a sincere silence that fell between us, and as the feeling soaked in our weary bones and as we sat now, realizing that we can and must complete this journey- whatever stands in our way-the light, our guide, shone through the trees for only a second then dissipated. I could see in the other two, they felt it as well. The song reminded me of the soothing siren that would draw the travelers when out on the sea, and the song arose in me what can only be described as a deep yearning to go back, but not to the life I once lived, but to go back to a life I never knew- a life perhaps in waiting. At first we thought this was just the whistling wind off the water, but the hum returned again without the accompanying crescendo of the breeze. As we started talking about the possibility of making a fire, the breeze once again picked up but brought with it not only the chill of the river but a sweet hum from beyond it. Since the temperature dip had begun, this once welcome gesture was met with hostility by the three of us. We had just settled under a bank where the river dipped into a valley, when a breeze picked up and blew the cool of the water on us. Our guide came back to us last night right after sundown, after an exhausting days walk. Our hearts have speedily made the transition, now body and mind must stop wading and jump in. It is the way things are here, and since we are here we must adapt to survive.
Sunless sea yearning burning full#
We have stopped becoming appalled by the way things are here-of course winter could come only days after a full bloomed summer. The trees are becoming thin, like our restlessness, and naked as if winter is coming. The air has cooled significantly since we started this sojourn, and the sky has covered itself with a grey blanket that casts a sunless day on us. We are like ghosts in purgatory, aware of each and their own, yet so removed from the formalities of being alive-being human-and placed in the smoke of our own burning-blinding us, yet guiding us. A deep pull, an unquenchable burn driving us to completion-to relief. The pull has kept us moving, we keep trudging along- being drug by inner ambition.
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