Drifter lay in his chambers, his mind racing. It had been a most eventful turn of events ever since they managed to save the mortal girl Amarelle from the Archipelago of Exiles, and despite the fact that they tired so little in the adventure, with Knife of the Ocean and Akira Silverwing doing most of the infiltration and sneaking around, he still felt that they had undergone through a trek across the harshest of Creation!
They delivered the rogue sirens to the Storm Mother Sikunare after catching the three in an underwater cove near the Isle of Broken Masts. It proved to be easier for the Exalts to handle, since Akira Silverwing's transformation to a giant octopus granted her enough strength to keep the sirens immobilized while the begrudged Knife of the Ocean - still lamenting over his gruesome fate that indirectly somehow was caused by the sirens - tangled them in the enchanted nets that the Storm Mother has given. They were carted off in the Ark of First Light and thrown unceremoniously into separate barrels filled with water. Drifter extended his heart and patience to a lot of suffering people, but these sirens merited the punishment and treatment that they now receive despite their pleas of exiling themselves and evading the Storm Mother's wrath. Despite his usual nature of being merciful to the worst of enemies, he had to give way for his companions' objectives to push through. After all, it takes utmost precedence than his own interests.
Now, recalling those memories back, Drifter's lamentations were suddenly shattered as his meditations brought forth a surge of essence, followed by a vision that he could not mistake to come from his previous incarnation:
He was standing in the middle of a massive open area inside a large structure of orichalcum and marble constructs. Here and there machines powered by the most complex Magitech engineering hummed harmoniously like a symphony of machines, and hundreds of researchers and artisans - both Exalt and mortal alike - hurried here and there to the different mechanisms, some of them working with it, others conducting tests and research on it. However, there was an aura of panic and emergency inside the manse, as if the people were hurrying to prepare something big.
"Master Amethyst!"
He turned, and saw a woman dressed in a pure white laboratory coat approach him. It was his personal construct, one of his most trusted Servitors in that manse.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Master Amethyst, the Amethyst Arbor's recent developments had been completed. At any time we are prepared to initiate our last defenses!"
"Good. I shall be off as well. We are not going to die here. Please, maintain this place once everyone has gone and ensure its secrecy until the day I return - whenever that will be..."
"It will be as you wish, Master. Even if it takes until the end of Creation itself."
"Be safe, along with the manse."
He went off.
At that same moment the vision disappeared and Drifter understood: It had been his incarnate's memories of being inside a very large manse - and from him it appeared as a huge workshop - a workshop filled with wondrous magitech workings that he could only dream of having and knowing in this time.
His mind now filled with questions, Drifter dressed up rather tidily and proceeded to seek an audience with the Censor of the West, Fak'Haru, to attempt to find some of the answers.
They delivered the rogue sirens to the Storm Mother Sikunare after catching the three in an underwater cove near the Isle of Broken Masts. It proved to be easier for the Exalts to handle, since Akira Silverwing's transformation to a giant octopus granted her enough strength to keep the sirens immobilized while the begrudged Knife of the Ocean - still lamenting over his gruesome fate that indirectly somehow was caused by the sirens - tangled them in the enchanted nets that the Storm Mother has given. They were carted off in the Ark of First Light and thrown unceremoniously into separate barrels filled with water. Drifter extended his heart and patience to a lot of suffering people, but these sirens merited the punishment and treatment that they now receive despite their pleas of exiling themselves and evading the Storm Mother's wrath. Despite his usual nature of being merciful to the worst of enemies, he had to give way for his companions' objectives to push through. After all, it takes utmost precedence than his own interests.
Now, recalling those memories back, Drifter's lamentations were suddenly shattered as his meditations brought forth a surge of essence, followed by a vision that he could not mistake to come from his previous incarnation:
He was standing in the middle of a massive open area inside a large structure of orichalcum and marble constructs. Here and there machines powered by the most complex Magitech engineering hummed harmoniously like a symphony of machines, and hundreds of researchers and artisans - both Exalt and mortal alike - hurried here and there to the different mechanisms, some of them working with it, others conducting tests and research on it. However, there was an aura of panic and emergency inside the manse, as if the people were hurrying to prepare something big.
"Master Amethyst!"
He turned, and saw a woman dressed in a pure white laboratory coat approach him. It was his personal construct, one of his most trusted Servitors in that manse.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Master Amethyst, the Amethyst Arbor's recent developments had been completed. At any time we are prepared to initiate our last defenses!"
"Good. I shall be off as well. We are not going to die here. Please, maintain this place once everyone has gone and ensure its secrecy until the day I return - whenever that will be..."
"It will be as you wish, Master. Even if it takes until the end of Creation itself."
"Be safe, along with the manse."
He went off.
At that same moment the vision disappeared and Drifter understood: It had been his incarnate's memories of being inside a very large manse - and from him it appeared as a huge workshop - a workshop filled with wondrous magitech workings that he could only dream of having and knowing in this time.
His mind now filled with questions, Drifter dressed up rather tidily and proceeded to seek an audience with the Censor of the West, Fak'Haru, to attempt to find some of the answers.
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