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Beautifully drawn by Sid (Erasvita@DA)!
Current Novus date and time is
... currently in progress!

 Year || 503
 Season || Winter
 Temp || -10℉ (-23℃) to 55℉ (12℃)
 Weather || Winter has left a blanket of pristine white snow in many parts of Novus. Only Solterra remains mostly untouched by the season's frosted hold, but even the desert may feel a cold breath of wind now and then. With Winter now settled across the continent, dreams of Spring dance in the minds of many.

Character of the Season

Member of the Season

Thread of the Season
Coloring outside the lines

Pair of the Season
Moira Asterion

Quote of the Season
"There is something to be said for how soothing habit could be, when one was trying to avoid words they shouldn’t say." — Theodosia in
Cinderblock gardens

see here for nominations

All Welcome - let me drink the day, an invitation
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▶ Played by Isra [pm] Posts: 29 — Threads: 19
▶ Agender [They/Them/Theirs] Hth:Atk:Exp:
▶ 3 [Year 500 Spring] Active Magic:
▶ 8 hh Bonded:

“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.” 


At first it seems like a strange thing to look up and see a dot of black on the horizon just as the sky turns from blue to dusky pinks and golds. A quick look might suggest a bat and on further thought perhaps it seems another strange animal bred from broken god-magic that might bring with it another disaster. 

But that speck of black keeps drawing closer and soon it's not a bat at all but a raven that breaks through the clouds and lands stone still slick with ice in the places too deep for the sun to reach. And as soon as it lands three other specks of black break through the horizon. Each one picks another location and each carries, on it's leg, a golden scroll.  

A closer look might reveal that this particular scroll on this particular raven looks as golden as the sun at the highest point of the day. There is no other color but gold and it glitters more than any precious gem.  

At once all the ravens pick loose their knots and the scrolls flutter like golden leaves to the ground. Once free of their burden all the ravens take wing and fly away, out past the clouds until the coming dark hues of the night swallow up their inky feathers. 

How silly it seems now to think that they looked a little like bats. 

Each of the scrolls catch on a breeze, unroll and the words shine and glow like embers of a dead fire. 

When the darkness tolls its shortest hour
When the sun fades in the sky 
When the spring ticks away like the final hour
And the moon burns not like winter but silver sunlight

Then the path will be revealed in fairy light
And stone and gold will guide your way

Come to me at the start of summer.

There is no signature on the letter. But maybe, just maybe, the blot of ink at the bottom looks a little like a crescent moon. 


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