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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Interactive Quest  - true solitude is a din of birdsong

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#1


seething leaves, whirling colors, tracks in the snow

It is dawn, the sun just peaking over the horizon. The Viride forest is blanketed in early morning frost covered with a blanket of dense fog. The temperature is cool on this very first day of spring. There is nothing overly exciting about this particular morning, nothing that would really set it apart from any other day. It is an ordinary morning for an extraordinary thing that is about to transpire.
 
Mateo can be found soaring above the treetops, casually and with nowhere in particular that his flight takes him. The morning is relatively silent, only the sound of the wind as it travels through his feathers. But unbeknown to him, this relatively ordinary morning is about to turn into something extraordinary.
 
And yet, there is the sound of a songbird. Her song is carried by the wind and reaches Mateo’s ears. It’s soothing and captivating and altogether beautiful. She flies alongside him, her body a bright and vibrant red whereas her wings contrast her body and remain jet black. Her ebony eye catches his as she continues her singsong. But in the beauty of this moment, Mateo will hear something. “Follow me…” It is nothing but a whisper upon the wind, but there is no denying that it has come from the scarlet tanager beside him. Her look resembles that of a smile, if she were capable of giving him one. Ad just like that, she continues her singsong and flies ahead of him. 
 
As she guides him down into the forest, she continues to beckon him with her song, encouraging him to follow her. And as she breaks through the canopy, she disappears from sight. The forest is eerily silent this particular morning and it will leave Mateo standing within the fog. There is no more song of the songbird, no whispers, nothing. And it is in this silent that a feeling seems to wash over him. Magic envelopes him, washing over him like an ocean wave. The immediate affects are not known at this present time, but Mateo will know that something has happened, that something is vastly different than just moments before.
 
And out of the silence, he will once again hear the song of the scarlet tanager. And once again, he will hear “Follow me…” Although he cannot see the vibrant red of her feathers, he will hear her song and it will take him on a magical journey. Her song is the start of a journey through all his senses, experienced through his new magic. His hearing will be heightened and the sound that she emits will be seen by him through a different set of eyes (how Mateo perceives this song with his new magic will be completely up to you). She leads him through the forest on a journey, a journey that will take his senses higher.
 
And then, the song fades away and once again, Mateo is left in a world of silence. And as he looks around, he will see the silhouette of a doe just up ahead. Her eyes are settled on his own, her ears flicking quietly in the forest. The fog is beginning to dissipate and her full form is coming into view. She looks regal and at peace. And then she speaks. “Follow me…” Turning her head, the doe begins to meander through the forest, fully confident that Mateo will head her calling and follow her.
 
They walk for several moments before she steps into a clearing. She disappears from sight, where she has gone is unknown. But when Mateo steps from the forest, the sun will illuminate his position, the light assaulting him with senses unknown. His eyes will be filled with bright light (how he perceives this light with his new magic is up to you). As he stands in the clearing it is as if time has stood still. There is nowhere else Mateo needs to be.
 
And then, out of the stillness of the morning, there comes another whisper. “Look around you, experience the world.” The flowers that grow in the clearing seem to emit more smells than normal. Lavender, eucalyptus, and mint assault his nose, their oils fill his nostrils with an aroma he’s never quite experienced before. His magic will enhance these smells (and how he perceives them is up to you) and make them bold.
 
And then the wind comes. It dances over his skin, whisping through his mane and between each and every hair upon his body. It touches him everywhere as it flies by, making sure no single hair is left untouched. The wind wants him to experience what touch can bring him. It wants him to feel the way the grass tickles at his underbelly, the way the wind moves through his mane. It wants him to experience everything.
 
And then comes the taste of things on the wind. Magically, the wind carries with it the flavors of fruits that grow on trees in this very clearing, the taste of salty sea air, and the taste of fresh dew in the morning. And if Mateo chooses to dine on the grasses at his feet, he will taste all the flavors of a five course meal in a single bite.
 
His magic is brewing to life within his being. It is now up to Mateo to experience the world in ways in which he never thought possible. There was so much to learn and experience about this world and it was up to him to decide how he would walk through life. 



Should @mateo choose to follow the strange, talking songbird, he will find himself led to a clearing. At first it appears to be a normal clearing; but magic runs deep here, saturating each blade of grass and weighing heavy on the wind. Magic that reaches out for him, that tempts him to lower his head and eat of a grass sweeter and richer than any other he’s known…

Does he dare?

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This quest was written by the lovely @Zombie.

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Mateo
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#2


It was a day just like any other.

Isn’t that how the strangest days always start?

The black-winged boy wakes in that slowly-stirring hour before dawn, when the birds start their sleepy morning song and dewdrops glimmer like diamonds on the grass. The new day stretches and yawns, touches its celestial toes, starts the pot of ambrosia coffee. The boy is blinking sleepy eyes on the balcony, watching how the horizon tenses in the east, feeling the watchful presence of god.

Just like any other day, he unfolds his wings, stands there for the space of a breath or two, and then, with hardly a sound, he takes to the sky.

He did not often feel possession of things. He did not wear jewelry or accessories, he did not decorate his living space with gaudy things, he didn’t even own many books or scrolls or works of art (having access to the library was more than enough for him). But when he was in the sky over Delumine and the sun made its grand celestial entrance, that was his time. That was his sky. It was intangible and irreplaceable and it belonged to Mateo, if only because he was the only one bold enough to claim it for himself.

He flies high over the sea, catching the updrafts that swell up from the shoreline cliffs, then he turns and swoops low over the Illuster Meadow, low enough to feel the tall grass tickle his belly. He hollers loudly at the still morning air, and with a few strong flaps of his wings he rises again, tall enough to crest the treetops.

The sky lightens, then it burns, and the great mountain casts its long, long shadow across Delumine, and then… a most beautiful song catches his ear. He looks around, startled, and finds a small red bird soaring next to him. He whistles her song back to her, or a rather weak interpretation of it, and to his surprise words fill the air in return–

Follow me…

Just like that, it was no longer a day just like any other.

The little bird (fast and strong, for such tiny wings) leads him lower into the forest. Eventually, instead of repeating her song back at her, they sing together– he providing the rhythmic, harmonic undercurrent to her lovely treble. The hair begins to stand up at the base of his neck… there is something undoubtedly holy about this encounter, he feels it stirring his soul.

To his dismay, she is gone when he lands in the foggy clearing. Without thinking, he whistles two high notes, a question– are you there?

An unnatural stillness descends. The trees, the air, his heartbeat, all of it so very still, everything except his soul, which is stirring now even faster than before, swaying like the waves of the ocean, mounting higher with every swell. When he closes his eyes he hears her again, and the darkness behind his eyelids is suddenly painted with swirling, dancing lights. The forest seems a cathedral now, a temple of colors far stranger than any sunrise he’s seen before. He follows the birdsong deeper, not daring to think, not daring to ask himself is this a dream for fear that the answer is yes.

Next is a doe, who disappears almost as soon as he catches up to her. As he looks around the clearing she brought him to, the sunlight suddenly streams in, and where it touches his skin he fills with music. Spaces inside of him he did not even know were there, they swell with holy music, symphonies of light and magic.

Then comes scent, and touch, and, as he lowers his head to the dew-rimmed grass, taste. His senses explode and mingle, overlap and entwine like the roots of a great, ancient tree. Tears are running down his face (they sound like violins and smell of bonfires) and he looks to the sky, or what he thinks is the sky. All the colors of the sunrise are running together, running away. “Thank you,” he cries, overcome with the beauty of it all. He has never felt so close to god.

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