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#Murals and Artefacts
witeksphotosart · 2 years
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Examples of art in a park - Boleslawiec, Lower Silesia, Poland.
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delirious-donna · 2 months
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Ghosts of the Past [Extra Drabble]
story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.
an: I decided that it would be cute to write a section from the POV of the couple that Kento and reader meet in the museum. I’ve grown very fond of this couple and I hope you’ll enjoy this extra little piece of the story.
warning: none, SFW, fluff and humour
Series Masterlist
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The museum was full of its usual hustle and bustle, even more so given the holidays, and it was a pleasure to be a part of the hubbub.
Felicity scanned the crowds with a keen eye, smiling at the energetic children—some more rambunctious than others—accompanied by parents trying to corral them into some semblance of order. She well remembered when her own brood were this age, and the hours spent in this much-loved building keeping them amused during school holidays.
A hand slipped into hers, more familiar than any other and Felicity squeezed the fingers of her beloved husband, glancing at him with a love that had never diminished even after all these years together. She counted her blessings for having met her soulmate so young, and for the family they had raised, as well as the fun and laughter they continued to share.
The pair perused the museum that they knew like the back of their hand, winding through the galleries and stopping to spot new artefacts and displays. This was still one of their favourite pastimes, there was always a discovery to make and even on days when it felt like they had seen everything the museum had to offer, there was always people watching to fall back on.
Much to Howard’s feigned disapproval, Felicity adored watching people. Since their children had grown up and flown the nest to build their own families it had become a ritual of sorts to indulge her social curiosities in public places such as these. There was something special about witnessing the complexities of real human relationships that scratched the itch far more than any TV drama or soap opera ever could. Friendships blooming over shared interests, young minds being educated through fun interactive education, families finding their feet with the addition of children in tow, tired parents happy to see their kids entertained to give them a moment of peace, and best of all, romance blossoming in the most unlikely places and ways.
Today was no different, with new delights to be found in every room, but it wasn’t until they neared the new photography exhibition did Felicity feel the buzz of excitement that often signalled a special find.
“You’re like a bloodhound, Flic,” Howard chuckled with a playful roll of his eyes. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and secured his wife’s arm through his own.
“Pfft, nonsense. I’m simply drawn to where the universe wants me to be.” She didn’t believe the sentiment, but she’d be damned to admit he was right after all these decades together.
The pair admired a large mural of a cheetah made up of hundreds of thousands of tiny black-and-white images until her attention was drawn to the room by their left. There were only two occupants, a young man slowly edging around the room and an equally young woman resting on the leather seat in the middle.
Felicity watched whilst the young woman never took her eyes off the man perusing the photos on the wall. Her gaze was intent but there was a softness that infused her features with what appeared to be fondness. Perhaps even attraction? The young man, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to being the focus of the woman. His posture was stiff, hands clasped behind his back with a slight rock on the balls of his feet when something interested him.
If this wasn’t a budding romance, she’d eat her hat. Felicity tugged gently at the cuff of Howard’s shirt sleeve, nodding her head in the direction of the young couple and was met with a sigh of resignation.
“Leave them be,” he hissed, though there was no heat to his tone. Despite the words, he too began to watch as the young woman moved towards the man and started to speak. They were too far away to hear the conversation, but it was obvious after a moment that it wasn’t going well.
The couple watched on whilst the woman’s expression turned to shock then irritation. Whatever the man was saying, it wasn’t going over well, and when she strode off to the other side of the room, Howard could only feel sympathy for the young man. He looked genuinely perplexed, a hand scratching at the back of his neck as if the skin prickled from the exchange.
Felicity leaned into her husband to speak close to his ear. “Doesn’t that remind you of anyone?” She chuckled, turning twinkling eyes up at him and he felt a swell of love wash through him. It did remind him of someone, himself, and the young woman would be Felicity, his Flic.
“He looks as baffled as I felt back then. You always seemed to be mad at me for something I didn’t even realise was wrong,” Howard admitted with a shake of his head.
“I was, though it hardly matters now. The only thing that truly matters is how he deals with it… will he turn on his heel or will he try to resolve the issue?”
It was obvious that the wheels inside the young man’s head were turning at an astonishing rate, but he wasn’t moving, and Felicity’s shoulders slumped sadly.
“Give him a moment,” Howard chastised, pointing towards the man’s hand. “Don’t you see how he wishes to reach for her?”
He was right. The man’s hand was stretching, reaching as if what he wanted was just out of reach. It dropped as quickly as it happened, but only because he took the tentative steps to move alongside his object of affection.
“I always reached out for you, just as he did for her. Maybe they’ll make it,” he whispered co-conspiratorially.
“He’s confused, darling. I don’t think he quite knows what he wants, only that he doesn’t have it yet. Come on,” she said, moving them towards the young couple.
The woman was near yelling, yet the man simply looked on in confusion. So badly she wished to grab them both by the ear and turn them to face one another. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife and it was like stepping into a memory of her past, familiar and amusing. Back then, it had been far from funny but with the advantage of hindsight and a lot more life experience, she could view it for what it was.
“Oh, Howard, look there. Doesn’t that bring back memories?” Felicity called loudly, pleased when the pair jumped in surprise at being interrupted. They jerked apart like naughty children, and it only strengthened her belief that they both wanted something more than their current situation.
“They say that couples shouldn’t bicker, especially in public,” she said with a slight laugh. “But don’t listen to such rubbish. Howard and I used to snipe at each other regularly, and we’ve been married thirty-five years.”
The look of utter shock on their faces, especially the woman, was worth it. Along with the stammered explanations that it wasn’t what it seemed, that they weren’t a couple. So that was where the problem lay. Felicity wondered if it was down to one party in particular, and her gaze strayed to the young man.
A quick assessment painted a detailed picture. Young, handsome, successful, affluent given the timepiece on his wrist but maybe too invested in his work? She couldn’t blame him; society expected all youngsters these days to chase after unrealistic dreams. A career wasn’t the only thing that mattered in life, and from the expression he wore, he wasn’t as happy as he made out. A nudge in the right direction might do the trick. It would be a shame to see a bright young woman slip through his fingers simply because he was scared to try to make it work.
“My dear, when you’ve been around as long as we have, you start to trust what your gut tells you. I won’t say anything else except to offer this one piece of advice. Don’t go to bed angry, and don’t wait to go after what you truly want.”
Felicity offered a kindly smile at the young man, his jaw slack at the offered wisdom. She patted the woman’s arm once more as Howard led her away, but only after he offered his own incline of the head at the man. There was compassion in his eyes, and she knew that it felt like he was staring at his younger self at that moment. She knew that because it was the same for her, a ghost of the past come to remind them both where they started and how far they had come.
“Do you think they’ll make it?” Felicity asked once they were well out of earshot.
Howard sighed, turning his head back for a moment before replying. “If he’s anything like me then he’ll do whatever it takes to make it work.”
“You old softie…”
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uwmspeccoll · 1 year
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Fine Press Friday! 
Our Limited Editions Club Shakespeare series keeps giving us more artists to look for in our collection! This week we found Carmen, by Prosper Mérimée (1803-1870) illustrated by French-born American painter and illustrator, Jean Charlot (1898-1979), published by the Limited Editions Club, New York, in 1941 in an unstated limited edition of 1500 copies signed by the artist. We learned about this edition because of the post we did a couple of weeks ago on Charlot’s illustrated edition of Shakespeare’s Henry VI, Part 3.
Mérimée’s 1846 novel about the eponymous Romani beauty, is most popularly well known from Georges Bizet’s famous opera of the same name, which is based on Part III of Mérimée’s story. The action is set in 1830s Andalusia, but Jean Charlot’s illustrations gives the story a Mexican flavor. Charlot worked mainly in Mexico and was a member of the Mexican Muralist Movement, sharing a studio with Fernando Leal who is considered to be one of the first Mexican Muralists. It was after the Mexican Revolution (1910-1917) that the new government sought to use murals to educate the public on social justice issues. From a young age, Charlot was fascinated by Mexican art and pre-Columbian artefacts and his mature work reflects this fascination, including in these illustrations.
The thirty-seven multi-layered color lithographs, which Charlot drew directly on the printing matrix, feel like miniature frescoes. Charlot laid down quick marks to color large areas of the image, which layer in overlapping color to give the image a lively energy. One could easily imagine one of the illustrations used as a page header as a mural above a doorway, signaling a transition. Or, one of the larger full-page illustrations as a mural on a large wall. I am taken by how these illustrations function well in both architectural and book spaces. The book is architecture.  
The lithographs were printed by Charlot’s friend Albert Carman in New York and the type is 18-point Linotype Bodoni printed by Aldus Printers in New York. . The paper was made by the Worthy Paper Company, was watermarked with the name of the book and the covers are wrapped in a vibrant hand-blocked color silk.
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View more Limited Edition Club posts.
View more Fine Press Friday posts.
– Teddy, Special Collections Graduate Intern
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lifeofkaze · 1 year
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Molly
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A/N: This story was written for the March prompt of the @hp-12monthsofmagic challenge.
It had been a long, hard day at the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic. Arthur Weasley had been busy with bewitched cutlery attacking Muggles at a furniture shop in Brighton from very early in the morning, followed by falsely distributed magical magazines telling the customers of a London bookshop their opinion about their hairstyles, and had finally finished his day with a short encore of the slime squirting postboxes he’d had to deal with in Manchester the previous week.
So, when he Apparated into the front yard of his family home near the village of Otter St. Catchpole, Arthur was exhausted, tired, and still covered in the odd spot of goo. Wiping some of the reeking fluid off his robes, he approached the lit windows of the Burrow, stopping briefly to breathe in the scent of wildflowers and honeysuckle and listen to the sound of spring awakening around the orchard and the rolling hills beyond. 
“Fred and George Weasley, get off the cabinet and release the cat this instant!”
Arthur flinched at the sharp sound of his wife cutting through the nightly peace. There was a dangerous edge to her voice, which most likely meant that it wasn’t the first time she had said those words. Judging by the laughter reaching his ear, it probably wouldn’t be the last time either. 
Bracing himself, Arthur took a deep breath, and pushed open the kitchen door. 
“Hello, everyone! I’m -”
The rest of his words got stuck in his throat. The kitchen before him - or what had been the kitchen when he had left for work this morning - had turned into a battlefield. There were plates, bowls, and glasses everywhere - some of them used, some of them in various stages of being magically cleaned. The sink was about to overflow with dishwater foam, while the brush and rag were performing what looked to be a passionate tango above it, splashing soapy water onto the floor, the counter, and the nearby walls.
This wasn’t even all that unfortunate. Due to some mishap Arthur wasn’t too keen on learning the details of, parts of the walls were covered in what seemed to be splotches of green sauce, already partly dried and giving off a distinctive minty scent. Ron, his youngest son, stood in front of it, casually dipping his tiny finger into a bowl with chopped and mashed up beetroot and adding his own colourful contribution to the mural. 
Careful not to step on the wooden figurines, books, balls and other toys strewn across the slippery kitchen floor, Arthur made his way into the living room, where he found his wife and the rest of his children, who weren’t currently at school. Molly Weasley stood with his back to him, angrily gesturing at two identical-looking boys perching on the top of the cabinet. They were sniggering among themselves, too busy stuffing the family’s cat into one of their sister’s dresses to mind the increasingly shrill tone of their mother. 
Ginny herself - wearing a suspiciously small amount of clothes - sat on the rug by the fireplace, gnawing on something that looked to be her mother’s wand. With a few quick steps, Arthur was by her side, winding the wand from the heavily protesting toddler. There, at least, was the explanation for the dancing houseware in the kitchen. 
Once the twins on top of the cabinet became aware of their father’s presence, they instantly let go of the cat, shouting his name at the top of their lungs. Ron and Ginny joined the fray, and for a horribly long second, the entire ground floor of the Burrow was filled with the sound of screeching children vying for their father’s attention. Then, they all rushed forward and flung their little arms around his waist as high as they could reach. 
Hugging them back, Arthur caught the gaze of his wife, who looked flustered and a little out of breath as she asked him how his day had been. Before he got to reply, however, she had already begun apologising for the state the house was in, and how she didn’t have the time to clean, and how he please shouldn’t look at the kitchen too closely, and that she really should get started on sorting everything before dinner, shouldn’t she?
And with that, Molly was gone, leaving behind her children and confusedly staring husband. Arthur slowly followed her into the kitchen, where she was furiously cutting onions, sniffing and wiping at her eyes all the while. With a wave of her wand, which now bore the marks of Ginny’s teeth, she made the brush and rag stop dancing and clean up the spots on the wall instead while the plates and cutlery began sorting themselves into neat stacks.
Once the Weasley children had gone to bed, Molly only talked briefly to Arthur, immediately swishing past him again to take care of everything she hadn’t managed to do yet and that made their family life run… well, as smoothly as life in the Burrow could possibly run. Arthur watched her work in thoughtful silence. He would have liked to help but was sure Molly wouldn’t let him. She never did, really. Somehow, she alone was able to see order in the chaos; Arthur knew this family wouldn’t last a day without her.
The thought wouldn’t leave him for the rest of the evening. Presently, when they had settled in their armchairs next to the fireplace, he spoke up.
“Molly, dearest, have I ever told you -” 
He tailed off as he raised his eyes to his wife. Molly had sunk deeper into her armchair, the needles with Ginny’s half-finished new jumper resting in her lap. Her head lay fallen to the side, and her chest rose and fell in a gentle, regular pattern. She had fallen asleep.
Arthur watched her thoughtfully, studying her features that had become more familiar to him than his own. New lines had appeared on Molly’s forehead and around her mouth, and there were fine crinkles around her eyes that never used to be there, but she still looked so much like on the day they had first met at Hogwarts so many years ago. 
He remembered it well, how he and Molly and so many others had stumbled into the Great Hall for the very first time, at the end of which, on a simple four-legged stool, an old, battered-looking hat had been sat.
Molly - still named Prewett, then - had been called to sit beneath the Sorting Hat first, and it had taken it quite a bit to announce a roaring ‘Gryffindor’ to the assembled school. Later, Molly had told him that the Hat had considered putting her into Hufflepuff, as well, and Arthur had never been gladder that the Hat had ultimately decided against it. 
It didn’t take long for Arthur and Molly to become fast friends and only a little longer for Arthur to see even more in the loveable, caring and slightly hot-headed young witch. It took him several years to pluck up the courage to ask Molly out, but when he finally and she said yes, he was almost too surprised to speak.
They snuck out of the Gryffindor common room after curfew together, dodging the wary eyes of the prefects, portraits, and Peeves the poltergeist on their way outside, where they spent a lovely evening wandering about the lakeshore in the moonlight. It was such a lovely evening, in fact, that it was well into the small hours when they made their way back to the castle. They were just about to ascend the steps leading to their common room when a light appeared at the top of it, shining on the grim face of Apollyon Pringle, the Hogwarts caretaker. 
Arthur didn’t think twice on what to do. Taking Molly by the shoulders, he pushed her behind a suit of armour, signalling for her to be silent. It had been just in time as well; no sooner had he turned away that the caretaker was upon him, gripping Arthur around the arm and dragging him away with a foreboding smile on his weathered face. 
Arthur was dealt the punishment of his lifetime, but even though he was sure he would feel the effects of it for weeks to come (which he did), he didn’t mention Molly with a single word, and once he had received a clandestine kiss from her behind the very suit of armour she had hidden behind, he decided that the bruises had been more than worth it. 
The relationship blossoming from that day held throughout their time at Hogwarts and beyond, and it didn’t take Arthur much consideration (but a lot of courage) to ask Molly for her hand soon after they had graduated. Their ceremony was small and with only a couple of people attending, but everyone who mattered had been present. Arthur had borrowed his dressrobes from one of his brothers, while Molly had taken it upon herself to sew her dress from the one her mother had worn on her wedding day. It wasn’t the elegant, stark-white dress with crystals and lace Arthur knew she had been dreaming about, but to him, it had been the most perfect dress he’d ever seen.
They moved into the Burrow soon after, back then only a small hut with one storey and two rooms, but it was theirs, and it was home. Then their son Bill arrived, and then Charlie and the rest of them, and with each of their children being added to the family, Arthur didn’t think his heart could hold any more love without having to burst eventually. 
All the while, Molly had been there to be the rock for all of them, regardless of how many curveballs life had thrown at them. She was always there, steady and unwavering, and Arthur cherished her more for it with every passing day. 
Dwelling on the thought, Arthur quietly got up from his armchair and stepped closer to his sleeping wife. She was moving her lips ever so slightly, as if, even asleep, she was trying to remind herself of everything she still had to take care of. A strand of her hair had fallen from where she had pinned it back, and Arthur noticed a few streaks of silver shimmering among the red - the very first of them he’d ever seen on Molly.
Knowing how they would upset her, Arthur raised his wand to vanish them but then thought better of it. Let Molly have her greys, he decided. They were a testimony of their time together, and if anything, they made him love her even more. 
Quietly laughing to himself, he ran his hand over his own thinning hair before tucking the silvery strand behind Molly’s ear. As he did so, Molly stirred. Her eyelids fluttered, and as her gaze focused on Arthur, she sat bold upright. 
“I fell asleep!” she cried out, giving Arthur a scolding look. “You should’ve woken me. There’s so much work to do.”
“Which is why I let you sleep,” Arthur replied calmly. “I figured you needed it.” 
Molly sighed, a fleeting look of frustration crossing her face. “Well, you shouldn’t have. Now I won’t get everything done before tomorrow.” 
“Yes, you will,” said Arthur, bending down to kiss her, “because you will go to bed and leave the rest to me.”
“You’ve been working all day, I really should -”
“So have you, my dear. I’m not yet tired, anyway. See, there’s this fascinating Muggle contraption I brought home from work today, which -” 
At that, Molly rose to her feet and hastily bade him goodnight. Arthur smiled to himself as he watched her go; that trick worked every time. 
***
The next day, when the sun had just about risen, Arthur silently got up and woke his children. Once he had gathered them in the kitchen and explained what he had in mind, they set to work, as quickly and quietly as possible. 
It took them longer than he had expected - and they probably made a lot more noise, too - but by the time their surprise was done and floating on a tray up the stairs behind them, Molly was still fast asleep. When Arthur gently touched her shoulder, her eyes flew open, and she sat up with a gasp.
 “Merlin’s beard, I overslept!” 
She was on the verge of swinging her legs out of bed when she noticed that her husband and children had gathered all around her. 
“Why are you all here? What happened?” A look of alarm formed on her face. “Is anybody hurt? Has there been another fire?”
“Nothing’s burnt, Mum. Relax,” said Fred, dramatically rolling his eyes. “Aside from those, of course,” he added, pointing his thumb at the floating tray carrying a stack of pancakes, a cup of tea, and a vase with the flowers Ginny and Ron had collected from the garden. He nodded his head at his twin brother. “George burned them.”
“No, I didn’t!”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, it was you!”
“No, you!”
“No, you!”
Arthur placed a hand on each of the twins’ heads, gently but firmly pushing them apart. “Neither of you burned the pancakes.”
They looked at each other for a moment before unanimously saying, “Right, it was Dad.” 
Suppressing a sigh, Arthur levitated the tray toward the bed, where Molly looked between her breakfast, her children and her husband in bewilderment. Then - much to Arthur’s horror - she burst into tears.
“What’s wrong, Mum?” Ron asked in a small voice, already climbing into bed to snuggle up against his mother.
“Isn’t that obvious, Ronny?” George said. “You made her cry because you’re so ugly.”
Fred nodded. “It’s true.”
Ron looked between his brothers with wide eyes as a pillow flew across his head and hit both twins in the face simultaneously. They gaped when they realised it was their mother who had thrown it, now both laughing and crying at the same time. Setting aside her breakfast, she opened her arms up wide.
“Now one’s ugly here,” she half-sobbed. “You’re all my perfect little children. And now come here!”
Arthur leaned against the doorframe, watching as the kids jumped into their mother’s arms so forcefully that they knocked her back into the pillows, all of them laughing as they did so. His lips curved into a smile. 
Maybe theirs wasn’t the picture-perfect storybook life, but that’s just what it was - theirs. 
And he wouldn’t want it any other way. 
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bespectacled-bookwyrm · 9 months
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The Emerald Crown
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A seraph-class solar dragon. Colossal to the point of dwarfing The Storm Incarnate, he can be considered his antithesis in all ways.
Very little is known about The Emerald Crown, but there is some evidence to suggest that he was worshipped at some point in the past. Aside from murals and a few artefacts, very little has survived to prove his worshippers once existed.
Extremely volatile and prone to violence, it is believed that the scarring over his eye was caused by a past altercation with another dragon.
He commands light, and some speculate that a few kingdoms razed by Reshiram was instead his handiwork. The Emerald Crown's reasons for apparently doing so, however, remains unknown.
When adopting a human disguise, he goes by the name of "Ghetsis Harmonia". He can sway entire crowds with the charisma he wields, but there is a strong belief that his goals are far from benevolent. . .
I used Ghetsis’ Black and White outfit for inspiration here. I thought it fitting, especially since I'm going with a “light is not good, dark is not evil” contrast between dragon!Ghetsis and dragon!Colress. I also took some inspiration from peacocks with the feathers.
Thoughts? :)
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Comic: The Missing
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This post belongs to the series DA comic. The main intention is to collect the basic story of the comic and highlight any potential lore concept that may be of interest and may be explored later in the game series.
This post has the following points:
Story
Relevant Details
Characters: a big cameo of various chars from the Tevinter Nights book
Lore
In the Lore section:
We have more details that keep reinforcing the idea that Solas knows very well how The Blight and the darkspawn work. This implies that this problem may have been older than we think.
The forest of Arlathan shows symptoms of having been a place deeply entangled with the Fade and the Veil in its creation. Since Solas is performing a long-time spell to destroy the Veil, the forest has been behaving chaotically in the recent time.
Veil Jumpers: group of Dalish mages and hunters and other non-elf people who try to contain the dangers that this alteration in the forest causes.
Shadow Dragons: Tevinter group that helps people in need inside the city [this includes elves].
The list of Tevinter cities under Qunari invasion increases: Carastes, Ventus, Neromenian, and now Vyrantium are all under Qunari attack.
Potential speculation that relates Arlathan to a city that was sunk, the Black City, and the Horror of Hormak. All this related to Blood Magic as well.
Another artefact has appeared: the crucious stone. We know nothing about it or its powers.
In the forest, there are paths where gravity works different than usual, people may age or return to their younger version as they walk through, and some spirits may force a temporary posession while the soul of the owner of the body is pulled away from their body [this last concept is a very annoying inconsistency with the usual concept of poseession in DA lore, in my opinion]
Two murals appeared: the central part of the famous “The Destruction of the Veil“ [without the figures of Meredith, Corypheus, and the archdemons] and another with two figures wearing dragon-like attires. Details inside the post.
[Index page of Dragon Age Lore]
Story
Basically, Varric and Scout Harding are after Solas to stop him. Varric wants to speak and knock some sense into him; Harding more like sinking an arrow in his head.
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As they explore different places while following Solas’ tracks, we find several characters from the book Tevinter Nights. When they explore the Deep Roads, we meet the pair of Grey Wardens from the book: the female dwarf Evka and the male city-elf Antoine.
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When they head to Vyrantium [Tevinter], now invaded by the Qunari, they find a powerful person turned into stone, showing how close is Solas. Here, we meet the Crows that killed Francesca’s brother: Teia and Viago, both of them also present in the Tevinter Nights book [they survived a Qunari plot that almost assasinated all the Talons, aka the heads of all the main houses of the Antiva Crows]. They had come to Vyrantium to kill the person who is now stone. They join Harding and Varric’s investigation in order to learn about the person who did it so they have explanations to give to the Crows.
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Their investigation leads them to go to the Arlathan Forest, where “magic has run wild for the last thousand years”. They discover that Solas is after another artefact that we can speculate is similar to the red lyrium idol: an ancient elvhen artefacts of great power called the crucious stone.
Here is where the most juicy part of the lore comes: the exploration of the forest of Arlathan
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The forest of Arlathan is chaotic and twisted, with paths floating and turning up-side down. Magic runs truly wild in here.
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Before venturing forth, Varric and Harding meet another character from the Tevinter Nights: the mysterious elf Strife, who appears now with a Vallaslin of Andruil. We are introduced to the concept of the Veil Jumpers, which name is more dramatic than what they truly are. They are not “veil jumpers” technically, they are not violating the rule of “walking physically into the Fade”, but apparently, they walk “inside” the Veil that is part of Arlathan Forest, whatever that means. They know the ways of the Forest [they even have a detailed map of it]. The forest has been deeply affected by the creation of the Veil, and it’s similarly twisted like the Shattered Library in the Crossroads. What we can say with some degree of certainty is that this place has been deeply entangled with the Fade, hence the creation of the Veil, and probably the destruction of the city of Arlathan, caused this brutal disarrangement in it, going wild since the preparation of the Destruction of the Veil by Solas.
Since the Veil Jumpers know about the artefact that Solas plans to take [which is inside a ruined temple deep into the forest] and the danger that the Venatori who are behind Solas represent, they join forces with Varric and Harding in order to help them walk along the forest .
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Clearly, their map shows that the path will be wild: there are part of the travel where their souls are taken while their bodies are temporarily possessed, others where they age as they step through, or walk upside down as if gravity works different here. 
Finally, they reach to the ruined temple and find out that Solas was there already. We know that he even painted a mural, the famous “The Destruction of the Veil“. It is not clear if this mural was painted recently and the chaotic magic of this place made it look aged, or it was painted long time ago, when the Temple was pristine.
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In the temple, Solas left a letter where he explains that Varric and company don’t understand what’s happening. Solas also says that he will try to reduce the damage that his plans will cause as much as possible. As usual with these plots, we never know what’s going on exactly because the character who knows it considers us not enough to fully understand it.
It’s curious that so far, we know about two elvhenan artefacts that are related to alterations of the Veil. Maybe they were part of the creation of the Veil, so it makes sense for Solas to know so well their location and their importance in the process of destroying the Veil: The red lyrium idol was in the depth of a lost, odd Thaig, close to Kirkwall, where the Veil is the thinnest, and the crucious stone is located in the core of a Forest that was deeply entangled with the Fade and the Veil.
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Without stop, the dwarves now go to Miranthous, the capital of Tevinter, where we find yet another char that was mentioned [but never seen] in the book Tevinter Nights: Neve Gallus; a private investigator and mage, who knows all what’s happening in the city. They learn that Solas passed through the city, helped to free some slave elves, and ended up using the dwarves to prevent the Venatori from recapturing them. This part of the comic is quite shallow in my opinion, with nothing interesting to highlight in terms of lore [beside the apparent existance of a group called the Shadow Dragons]. It contains a lot of “action” scenes that are not that great to see in comic style, in my opinion.
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The last page of the comic clearly shows the cliffhanger of what will be the main protagonist of DA:D, a person who is unknown to Solas.
Relevant details
Why the title? I guess the Missing (person) represents Solas, the character that Varric and Scout Harding are after.
Time: After the DLC Tresspasser. I assume this because Varric is Viscount of Kirkwall and everyone is after Solas.
Places: Vyrantium is, like the other Tevinter cities [such as Carastes, Ventus, and Neromenian], under Qunari invasion. We also visit the forest of Arlathan.
Characters: There is a group of characters that appear in the comic and belonged to the book, but they are not explored deeply. It’s basically a cameo of each of them: the Grey wardens Evka and Antoine, the Crows Teia and Viago, the mysterious elf Strife, and the mentioned Tevinter private investigator and mage Neve Gallus.
Lore: The most important part of the comics; what can they provide in terms of lore?
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We have a reinforcement of the concept that Solas knows a lot about the Blight: like Flemeth, he knows how to keep the darkspawn far away from him [similar to how Flemeth’s hut was free of darkspawns as long as she was around]. Morrigan told us in DAO that it was part of Flemeth’s magical tricks. Maybe it was something related to Mythal’s nature, which now is part of Solas’ too. 
Vyrantium is under Qunari invasion. This gives us an idea that Tevinter is being invaded by the Qunari with little resistance due to the inner fight against the Venatori. Tevinter is falling apart, fighting two wars at the same time; an external one against the Qunari and an internal one against the Venatori. This situation is extremelly dangerous for everyone in Thedas: if Tevinter falls, Thedas knows that they would have no other force to hold the line against the Qunari [we were informed about this in comic: Magekiller]. The situation is dire. So far we know, Carastes, Ventus, Neromenian, and now Vyrantium are all under the Qunari control.
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Shadow Dragons: A Tevinter group that Neve Gallus helps; they apparently help people in need [this includes elves]. It’s not clear how and why, but seems to show, in contrast with the usually cartoonish evil Tevinter that we see, a group of Tevinters that want a better and kinder country. I guess it’s a concept that will be developed later in the DA:D game. 
Arlathan Forest
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If we compare the Forest of Arlathan with all the strange things we saw in the Eluvian network but mainly in the Shattered Library [check the posts of the Crossroads in DA: Inquisition] we can conclude that they behave similarly, so we can assume that the Fade was deeply entangled with the forest, left to chaos when the Veil was created. This makes us pull a very easy conclusion with all the lore about Arlathan that we had via Solas and Felassan [read Felassan and bits of lore]: This Forest may have been where the original Arlathan was built. Thanks to some more-or-less “reliable” sources [read Tarohne, the Fell Grimoire, and Xebenkeck], we know this city was where the blood magic was originated, from a Seeker’s point of view [keep this detail in mind].
Thanks to Felassan’s words, we know this city was strongly dependent of magic, and potentially, of Fade itself [like the Shattered Library]. The unreliable tales of the Dalish claim that the city was “sunk” by Tevinter [read Arlathan’s codices in Ancient Elven codices; Din'an Hanin– Elgar’nan Bastion]. But on the other hand, we know that Solas colapsed a place where the Evanuris unleashed terrible things [read the main codex of “The Death of a Titan”], so there is potential lore that may link Arlathan as the place where terrible things were done by the Evanuris, and later it was collapsed, in similar fashion as we read about the The Horror of Hormak in the book. We also know that Arlathan seemed to be related to blood magic, which is a school that can produce horrors if misused [more details that may allow us to link it with similar horrors than the ones present in The Horror of Hormak ]. So, if Arlathan was sunk, or removed from existance [some people consider Arlathan is the Black City even though I can’t find any link or argument in favour nor against it], its magical nature may have been related to the Fade and, once removed/collapsed, it altered this place deeply, especially with the mofidications in the Veil that is experiencing now [Solas is performing a long-time spell to destroy the Veil].
Additional information can be found in the short story called Ruins of Reality:
We learn that Arlathan Forest has been behaving chaotically only recently, so we can suspect it’s related to Solas’ magic: he is performing a spell to destroy the Veil which takes some years [he implied that in Tresspasser’s ending, when he justifies that he helped the Inquisitor to avoid the Qunari invasion because he wanted to give Thedas some years of comfort before releasing the chaos that the destruction of the Veil will produce].
The forest shows alternate images of Strife; they are echos that have premonitory characteristics: they may show what is going to happen to him in few seconds.
Apparently, Strife is not a city-elf, but a Dalish from the clan Morlyn [but there are also implicit information linking him to the Excecutioners too, so maybe he “entered” the clan as a cover agent? It’s hard to specualte about Strife with the little info we have].
“His” clan had a leatherbound journal which started to write itself, describing sacred ruins in Arlathan Forest that guarded an artifact of fabled power. This is the crucious stone we see in the comic. Curiously, this journal sounds a lot like the book we find in a codex of DA2: The Emergent Compendium.
 One of the Veil Jumpers claims that this Forest is the Veil itself, and thanks to the short story, we can assume that these anomalies are recent: they have started since Solas may have begun the spell to destroy the Veil [every previous interpretration keeps making sense].
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In Arlathan Forest, like in the Shattered Library [ Inverted Ward], we have places where we walk “upside down”.
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However, there are effects that are unique of Arlathan Forest like spirits stealing your body, so you have to run after them for a good part of the path. Personally, this feels a bit of crappy lore. We never had lore in DA series that could explain or even suggest/suspect this, or could be close to this mechanism: possession [of a living creature] is a merge between the body’s soul and the spirit/demon, in the same body, and it’s hard to undo it. The Avvar have shown that it’s possible after an exhausting ritual [Sigrid’s quest explains about this part of the lore, check Stone-Bear Hold Avvars - Part 1]. Besides, this situation violates deeply the strong lore concept that possession cannot be performed unwillingly as we see it happens with Harding and Varric: they are not exactly informed to “allow” this temporal possession beforehand. One of the Veil Jumpers explains this only after Varric and Harding are “body-less” souls. Details like these make me question how much lore-consistent the DA:D game will end up being. Are we going to have a lot of crappy out-of-nowhere lore just to make a story that they can sell to new players while assuming the old ones are going to consume it no matter what? Anyways.
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There are also parts where people age suddenly, because “time runs chaotically”. 
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We also see a unique Varterral [details in DLC: Witch Hunt] that looks nothing alike the ones we know from the lore: 
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creatures made out of stone and bark, that one can even suspect that they may be related to experiments similar to the ones performed in The Horror of Hormak. As usual, the Varterral is protecting something: in this case, the artefact [crucious stone] hidden in the ruined temple.
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Finally, when we reach the Temple, two murals are seen: the central part of the famous “The Destruction of the Veil“ [without the figures of Meredith, Corypheus, and the archdemons], and another where we see two humanoids wearing dragon-like attires [Evanuris maybe?, one of them may potentially be Mythal?].
Mural of The destruction of the Veil 
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This mural is the central part of the one we saw in the trailer promotioning the game under the name of Dreadwolf. A detailed analysis of it can be found in “The Destruction of the Veil“. 
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This mural in this ruined temple may or may not be the same one we saw in the trailer, where Solas touches the wall. I have mixed feelings about this idea. On one hand, it makes sense that Solas may have reached this place in the Arlathan Forest and may have processed what he has to do through a mural, since it is his way to deal with his [lesser evil] decisions. We speculated about this in “The Creation of the Veil” and in “The Death of a Titan”. It’s also specualted in “The Dragon Slain” in  “The actions of the Inquisitor”.
Solas is a character who wanted to learn and teach more than leading rebellions and giving orders [Cole says this in Tresspasser in his line: "Bare-faced but free, frolicking fighting, fierce. He wants to give wisdom, not orders"]. He has been changing over the centuries as the Evanuris pushed the situation to a point of no turning back with the assasination of Mythal. Now, he has to destroy the Veil and unleash the sealed Evanuris to deal with them for good, and also to contain and erradicate the “true” evil that has been hidden behind the thickest barrier of DA lore: the true danger to the world contained in the Black City [considering how much he knows about The Blight and is against it, I imagine this ultimate evil is related to the Blight]. However, it is not clear if this mural is contemporaneous but looking old due to the chaotic nature of time inside the Arlathan Forest, or it’s indeed an old mural, painted ages ago.
In any case, the big difference between the mural we saw in the trailer and the one we see in the comic is that, in the later, there are no Corypheus, Meredith, nor archdemons. This detail made me wonder if this mural is as old as the temple itself. If so, it would mean that this was a “to-do-later” task; an “unstoppable” ending that Solas saw coming when he sealed the Evanuris. He may have known that this was a needed action that would requiere a solution eventually. He only borrowed time to Thedas.
If we think that he sealed the Evanuris in the Black City [with Andruil probably Blighted already, as her codex seems to suggest in Ancient Elven codices, Temple of Mythal], he may accidentally created the red lyrium, and put Great Dragons as guardians of the acess to this place [creatures who are resistant to the Blight but not immune, details in “The Creation of the Veil”]. One can suspect that Solas always knew that his creation of the Veil was a temporary solution, a trick to hold the big evil and give him time to plan and recover energy to truly deal with it in the future. For that, he needed the energy that the orb would gather for a millenia [but Corypheus wasted and broke].
Under this interpretation, the mural we see in the trailer would be a “redrawn” of the mural he did back in that time in the ruined temple of Arlathan Forest. In this recent version, he acknowledges two figures that were not a danger in ancient times: Meredith and Corypheus. Meredith somehow showed that Templars could use the power of the Red Lyrium [she showed how much power they can drawn from it; after all, Templars are the only ones who can use it without immediatelly die as common people do; we can conclude this from the many notes and codices related to experiments of red lyrium in Western Approach and Emprise du Lion]. Corypheus took the power of the orb and ended up destroying it. So now, Fen’Harel will need the help of the remaining Archdemons [if they are not blighted yet] and the remaining power of Mythal [within him], to erradicate the true Evil of the world [and avenge Mythal in the process? Flemeth wanted that for her].
So, in a short summary, we can assume two speculations about when this mural was drawn:
This mural was painted long time ago, probably by the time of the creation of the Veil and the caging of the Evanuris. Solas acknowledged that there was a bigger evil trapped in the Black City that should be eventually deal with it. This idea concords with the lack of figures such as Corypheyus and Meredith [they were not even born yet]. This speculation implies that Solas redrew this mural later [in the Dreadwolf trailer] with the additional characters who accelerated the need to deal with the Veil. I personally like this idea, although it adds inconsistency to previous interpretations [such as the potentiallity that the image of Fen’Harel with silvery-blue eyes was because he had absorved Mythal’s powers]. This could not be possible since back then, Solas was not aware that he will need to absorb Mythal’s powers to deal with this evil.
This mural was painted recently, but the chaotic nature of the Forest made it look aged and cropped parts of it, leaving only the central part of the original illustration. I don’t like this idea at all. The Magic of the forest is wild, but seems ridiculous to assume it can cut parts of a mural just because.
Mural of the Evanuris/Dragon priests
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I suspect this mural shows dragon worshippers, or dragons in humanoid form. 
Design-wise, both characters have no way to show their ears or heads. We don’t know if that black thing is hair or decoration of their hats. We don’t know if they are elves either. Their sleeves have in their inner side a texture that may suggest “dragon/lizard belly/inner parts”
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The green one has a face in her knee; similar design is seen in the Mythal’s Temple’s guardians and in Solas’s Fen’Harel’s attire.
The hat of the green one has strong similarity with the hat of the attire of the Tevinter Archon. Since Tevinter always worshipped dragons as gods [and the design of their clothes and cities are related to dragons most of the time, details can be seen in “outfit” section from Patterns and Styles: Tevinter], one may suspect that this char in green may be related to a dragon [because she is one of them or because she worships one]. This link makes me guess that Elvhenan worshipped dragons originally, until they took Divinity [dragon blood maybe?] for themselves. 
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The shape of the hat of the green one is strongly related to Andraste’s helm and Flemeth’s staff too. In a less convincing way, it may be related to the strange figure in the Deep Roads that I called  moon head creature. This makes me suspect that the figure in green may be Mythal, giving comfort to another, in a motherly way, as she always was depicted. Mythal was also a [green] dragon so it does not contradict my previous statement.
The other figure wearing reddish attire has a hat with the shape of what I called Bull horn head creature. We even find an eluvian with this shape on its top that directs us to the Sundered Hall and Lower Archives in the Shattered Library. I can’t speculate who is this one. A wild, very wild speculation is the following: If the green one is Mythal, the red one may be Urthemiel, simply because Flemeth always wanted to protect Urthemiel’s soul in DA:O. But as you can see, it’s a super weak argument with no confirmation at all [and we know that Urthemiel’s symbols is not the Bull horn head creature, so this seems a very wrong speculation].
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Since the strong similarity with the Archon’s attire and the lizard-like details of their sleeves, this image makes me suspect that these two characters are wearing dragon-icon outfits, probably related to worshipping dragons. I consider this because we can make an analogy with another culture of Dragon-worshipping: Tevinter has designs where normal Tevinter people wears Archdemons/Dragon iconography as part of their outfit [check “Outfits” section in Patterns and Styles: Tevinter]. 
If each Evanuris worshipped a dragon, and tried to imitate/earn their powers and shape [the shape of the divine], we know that Mythal did not need that since she was a dragon herself. This would imply that she was, alongside the other Old Gods, another Great Dragon that was part of the group that later was understood as the Old Gods/Archdemons. The fact that she represents herself may be related to the strange addition in DAI that may have existed a 8th dragon among the Old Gods that represented simply a dragon [Constellation: Draconis]. It’s worth noting that this 8th dragon is seen more as a serpentine dragon, and serpentine is the shape that Mythal took to fight Andruil [read the codex of Andruil in Ancient Elven codices, Temple of Mythal]. 
So, with all these details, I find myself inclined to think that these two were two Evanuris or two Old Gods. 
In the case of the Evanuris, they were worshipping or trying to have the “divine shape” [in an attire] of the dragons that controlled the skies when there was only “one song”. Dragons are, after all, “the blood of the world” [details in The Silent Grove, Those Who Speak, and Until We Sleep]
In the case of being Old Gods, the green one could be Mythal, considered the 8th Old God [the serpentine dragon] that was erased somehow, while the red one could be any other. One could suspect Urthemiel, but the shape of the hat has nothign to do with the symbol of Urthemiel that we know for sure. 
As a last speculation that has no arguments to sustain itself: another potential identity for the one in red may be Dirthamen. We saw in the Fade of Flemeth: Part 2, that she has a statue of Dirthamen in a central position, bleeding, and in a design that implies that he may have been betrayed too. Dirthamen is the only one with almost no codices and iconography in most of the game [since most of it is always co-opted by Falon’Din, the best example of it is the Temple of Dirthamen Part 1 - Part 2, which has no mosaic of Dirthamen, ironically]. I always had the impression that Dirthamen was the only other Evanuris who, beside Mythal, could work in a positive way with Solas. But that’s basically my argument here: the lack of negative narrations of Dirthamen against Mythal does not necesarily mean that they were allies. 
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altairtalisman · 5 months
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Hadir's Bio
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"History has to run its own course!"
More details on Hadir is under the cut
Name: Hadir Lazaar
Age: 196
Height: 162 cm
Birthday: 16 Secuna 1826 (Khra'ia)
Orientation: Transgender Heterosexual Female
Pronouns: She/Her
Species: Chronoven (formerly human)
Title: The Tenth Hour
Country of Birth: Kaldam
Likes: History, mint tea, vegetable pot pies, tea eggs
Dislikes: Mutton, stealing, destruction of historical artefacts, sandstorms
Hobbies: Photography, archeology, meditation
Personality: Meticulous and curious, she's the go-to whenever someone wants a detailed record of an artefact and/or a summarised history lesson and the last option to go to for romantic advice. Acts extroverted around museum visitors as well as beings she's not particularly close to, but is in fact introverted at heart
Style: Clothing suited for dry and hot climates as well as sandstorms, with scarves being a must-have due to being self-conscious about her neck scar as well as secretly thinking that scarves are cool
Abilities: Able to freely cross between Ratein and the Astral Realm without the need of dimension gates. Is able to use cosmic magic, stop time, view events happening in the past, present and future, as well as cause anything that her weapon comes in contact with to 'dissociate' from existence (apart from chronovens, The Caretaker and The Artiste)
Like the rest of the Hourly Twelve, Hadir is also able to open portals that allow her to travel anywhere. Also able to reverse time, but only once and at the cost of her life. Being a chronoven, she's only able to die either by her lifespan naturally running out, or by time reversal
Possibly due to her occupation as a museum curator, she possesses the ability to 'erase' someone from existence if she tears up any photographs of them (apart from chronovens, The Caretaker and The Artiste)
Background: A woman with a passion for history and the like, Hadir naturally landed a museum curator job at Kaldam National Museum. In 1851, a meteorite necklace was brought to the museum, its history unknown to all. Curious by the unknown artefact, Hadir involved herself in extensive research which costed her romantic relationships at the time
After four years of research, she discovered that the meteorite necklace originated from a nearby crater in the country, and that there were others just like it. She also learnt that they were made in around 130000 BCE, which surprised her as the necklace the museum was in possession of was in surprisingly excellent condition
A year after her initial discovery of the necklace's history, she stumbled across a secret cave that was filled to the brim with murals about the necklace. Hadir was able to make out that the necklace had something to do with time and stars, and wondered what the necklace truly represented with relation to these themes
After asking around, Hadir soon came across rumours that the necklace had the ability to grant someone's wish. Concerned by possible greedy natures of others, she kept the necklace on her person at all times so as to ensure that no one could abuse it. One night in Alstas 1857, the museum was subject to a robbery. Hadir and two other researchers were present as the robbery took place, with all three of them doing their best to prevent the historical artefacts from being stolen. During this process, the robbers casted explosion magic which claimed the lives of both security guards as they shielded her from the blast
Hadir, the only survivor, was overcome with guilt as their attention was divided between the museum's security as well as hers while she worked overtime to learn more about the necklace. She then wished that she had just gone home instead of doing overtime so that her friends didn't have to worry about protecting her, with the necklace seemingly acceding to her wish by glowing
Shocked, Hadir could only stare blankly at the necklace as the scarf around her neck started to fragmentalise. She howled in pain as her body was wracked with a burning sensation, and her right eye felt like it was being branded. Her eyes widened with recognition as she was breaking up and reforming in a galaxy
After an eternity, James had approached her and introduced himself. They were about to explain what she was but was interrupted by Hadir, who excitedly asked if their unusual existence had something to do with the necklace. Remarking that the museum curator was far more adjusted than expected, James confirmed that the necklace was indeed the reason to their new existence as chronovens
They added that while they had time-related abilities, time reversal came at the cost of their own lifespan and should Hadir choose to do so, her existence would be erased from Ratein save for those extremely close to her. She understood what James meant, and could only clench her fists tightly as even though she wanted to save her colleagues, her passion advised her to learn from her mistakes and prevent others from doing the same, as well as use her new abilities for good
Sympathising with Hadir, James reassured her that she wasn't doing her late colleagues any disservice for not sacrificing herself for them, and that even if she did so, there was a good possibility that they would've died all the same in the robbery. Accepting this course in history, Hadir returned back to the museum where she continues to guard the artefacts and provides The Fourteenth Dullahan with self-approved research on the chronovens…
True Form:
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backjustforberena · 1 year
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I've genuinely been thinking about this since last night (@youleavethetardisbrakeson can attest to that) but what about a little AU oneshot set after the war is over, but High Tide was left standing and untouched. And Corlys gets back. And he gets his huge mural of the Sea Snake painted over, to a massive mural depicting the events of his wife's final battle. No boats, just a HUGE red dragon and her rider, in her armour, fearless and free, taking on her enemies.
Because the Hall of Nine is everything Corlys wants to say about himself. It's stuffed full of artefacts and stories and boasts and treasures. But he takes the biggest tribute to his own legacy, the first impression, the first thing visitors see in that curved hall... and changes it. Now, all who visit High Tide will know of its former Lady. Of Corlys Velaryon's greatest treasure and greatest voyage: his marriage and his love for Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.
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evita-shelby · 11 months
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Of Gods and Witches
Chapter 19
A/N: so imma be going on hiatus for a while and we know the reason why. So until the situation with Tenoch Huerta is resolved, i will be putting off updating this fic as i cannot write it without feeling a bit 😬 about it all
Enjoy, anyways
--
Gif by @kukvlkan
Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @urgonnaneedabiggership @v3d3rl1cht
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Eva has never considered herself cowardly, but then again, she has been lying about her health for the past two years to avoid the talks that come with it and those looks of pity she loathes so much.
So, after Ch’ah shows Shuri the beauty of Talokan’s main city-state and the sun that rises over it, she finally answers the young woman’s burning question.
“You are not a mutant like him.” She points out when they return to the hut and find her giving Itza to her nanny.
They usually do not employ a nursemaid for the girls, but Eva’s waning health does not allow her to keep up with her five-year-old child anymore.
Once this is over, she will make up for lost time.
“Yes, and no. I am more like the woman called the Scarlett Witch, in that I am both capable of magic, but also have genetic mutations passed down to me from my ancestors.
Despite how great I look; I am actually quite old. You see I was born in the year 1896 in a period known in Mexico as the Porfierato and grew up during the Second Revolution. When I was twenty-two, I was put under house arrest for sedition and due to the immense boredom, that came with it, I decided to try my hand at summoning Quetzalcoatl.” The witch decides against a detailed story about her life, there will be time for that later and while, Shuri seems to have done research on Post classical Mayan artefacts, she likely has no knowledge of Mexico’s history.
“Instead of summoning the true Feathered Serpent God, she somehow managed to summon me.” K’uk’ulkan said with a rather nostalgic smile and a firm squeeze of Eva’s hand. “I saw her dancing on the beach outside of her home and felt a connection to her as if I had always known her.”
“Later I would discover the spell I had found was to summon one’s soulmate but by then we had met, fallen in love and been married for several years.” This was the story they told everyone.
And yet all those details that they hold deep in their hearts occasionally manage to be found in murals, novels and stage productions of how Talokan came to have its queen.
“How did you manage to live underwater, if you don’t mind me asking.” Shuri, who has no real interest in romance asks the question they needed her to ask.
Eva answers by showing her the bracelet.
“The chief sorceress of Talokan taught me the runes that allowed to appear as human in the surface without the need for a rebreather. K’uk’ulkan, as a token of his love, gave me the bracelet made with the fibers of the plant that saved the life of his people, but most importantly, his mother.
I was able to cast the runes on it due to its significance and origin and live just as he does.”
And because it is all that is left of the vibranium flowers, she will have to give it up to live like him in truth instead of dying like the Black Panther did.
When Namor gets summoned onto the surface by the queen, Eva takes her chance.
“There is something else, Shuri. Something I need you to swear you will do no matter what happens.” The seriousness in her face causes worry in the young princess.
Her eyes widen thinking she is asking her to protect her children and the Talokanil, something Eva knows she doesn’t even have to ask for.
“I give you my word, as Princess of Wakanda.” She says readily.
And yet it doesn’t stop her from gasping when Eva removes the bracelet from her wrist.
The glamour fades away and Shuri is presented with a ghost of her past.
Her brother.
“The key ingredient to the cure lies in the vibranium flowers. I cannot make it grow, the soil here does not allow it to, and I cannot risk the surface world.” Eva begins explaining. “You are my only hope.”
“What do you wish me to do?” she asks, and Eva just gives a grateful smile as she gives her the bracelet.
“Take it and recreate the flower in your laboratory. Your people need the Black Panther just as my disease needs a cure.
One flower is all I need to live.”
Eva had not expected the Wakandan warrior woman.
Nakia, mother to Prince T’Challa son of T’Challa, she could see it even as the guards hurried to protect the queen and prevent her from freeing their prisoners.
“Let them go.” She orders the guards who no longer think she is as powerful as she had been.
“My queen, what has she done to you?” the guard holding a knife to Shuri’s throat asks thinking the worse.
“We must kill them.” The senior guard overrides her command due to her sudden change in health. “They have hurt our queen!”
And when Eva lifts her arms to cast a shield on the girls, Nakia fires her weapon and doesn’t miss.
Eva sees the blood on her chest as she slumps forward, and all hell breaks loose.
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They took her.
It was a trap.
All there was left was a dying soldier and blood.
So much blood.
This was an act of war.
“Our people invoke my name when they pray for protection. Their deaths will not go unpunished.
Gather the city.”
They took his wife and mother of his children and Wakanda will pay the price.
He had been blinded by the hope of finding an ally in the Wakandan Princess.
To find a way to keep Talokan safe and know there would be someone out there to aid him in that.
And they had killed his wife the moment his back was turned.
If the queen wanted war, Namor would give her what she wanted.
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Eva hates the cold white of modernity.
Hates the pastel colors of hospitals and the thin papery feel of the clothes they make her wear.
Her queen’s regalia is replaced by bandages under a loose button-down shirt and pajama shorts.
These too were white.
She’d kill for something darker, like black.
Black is such a nice color.
The nurses and doctors speak in a strange language, Wakandan or Xhosa, she cannot quite place it.
She is awake, she is alive, that much she can understand.
“Easy, your grace, your injury has been giving us a challenging time. Your illness complicates the healing process I am afraid.” One of the women, a bald one with an overly sweet nature, said as they helped her sit up.
Fluffed her pillows and offered her something to drink and everything.
“Where am I?” she asks in English.
“You are in Wakanda.”
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Ni mirdir Ni ganar echoy'la ner mirshe (I think I've lost my mind)
“Master Kenobi?” The Chancellor raised his hand slightly, a polite gesture to get the other’s attention. “If you could remain behind for a few minutes?”
“Of course, Chancellor.” Obi-Wan answered with a nod before he turned to Mace and asked him to provide an apology to the rest of the Council that he would be delayed.
Palpatine watched the Jedi leave the room, with only Obi-Wan standing patiently waiting, hands clasped behind him. “I am sorry to delay you, Master Jedi, but I needed to talk to you about young Skywalker.”
“Oh?” Obi-Wan followed the Chancellor to a room containing several artefacts, including a stone mural that caught his attention, waiting for the other to speak again.
“He has become more withdrawn lately, don’t you think?” Palpatine watched the blue eyes turn from the mural to fix on his face as he spoke. “He very rarely attends our meetings, and usually does not send an excuse when he fails to attend.”
“Anakin has been spending time with his wife,” Obi-Wan paused before continuing, knowing that it was common knowledge, but the Chancellor had known Padme since she was a child. He decided that it was for Anakin to tell the Chancellor of his wife’s identity. It was not his choice to make. “He seems to be enjoying spending his free time with her.”
“You know he’s married?” Palpatine tried to keep the surprise out of his voice, but he’d undoubtedly failed from the way the Jedi was looking at him.
“Subtlety has never been his strong point. The Order is aware, and whilst there are certain concerns about his choices, we don’t abandon our own for falling in love. No matter how foolishly they act.”
“How reassuring.”
Not reassuring at all. If the Jedi accept that he’s married and don’t act like they’ll forsake him, he won’t fall.  
“Is that all, Chancellor? I hate to be uncongenial but I am late for a Council meeting.”
“Of course, Master Kenobi. There is only one more thing.” Palpatine smiled as he approached the Jedi, raising his hand to use the Force, pushing his way into Obi-Wan’s mind, tearing down his defences as if they were nothing and taking control.
He watched Obi-Wan’s eyes widen, first in concern, then in panic, his lips parted to protest and then the Jedi simply stopped.
His face smoothed out into an entirely blank expression, his eyes emotionless, his body frozen in place.
“Kill the Jedi, Master Kenobi.”
“As you wish.” The ginger’s voice was monotonous, his lips opening only to speak. No subtle smile. No light in his eyes. It was as though he’d been erased.
Obi-Wan walked back to the Temple with no thought in his mind except kill the Jedi.
Those were his orders. Repeating in his brain, overriding any other thoughts.
“Good afternoon, Master Kenobi,” Master Vant greeted him with a small bow as she left the classroom with her clan of younglings. They were all chattering away excitedly about the fact they got to use training lightsabers for the first time. So young, full of life. “It’s good to see you. You’ve certainly grown.”
Kill the Jedi. Kill the Jedi. Kill the Jedi.  
Don’t make me.  
Kill the Jedi.
Obi-Wan’s hand moved to his lightsaber mechanically, his fingers twitching as they closed around the metal, the Jedi trying to fight Palpatine’s control.
It was pointless.
Read the rest here
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knife-eared-jan · 2 years
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Anti-Theory: Orbs are NOT titan hearts, because …
Foci being made out of titan hearts is a really popular theory, and I see e.g. popular youtubers, popular tumblr bloggers and fans generally all talk about it as if it’s a confirmed fact. Which frankly bugs me, because to me it’s obvious that that makes no sense...
As far as I know this theory is mostly based on this one Trespasser image called “Death of a titan”:
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I do think that the star-shaped orb we see here is an orb, based on the way Solas holds it, the colours etc. It is also obviously placed roughly where a titan would presumably have their heart if we can assume their anatomy is comparable to other humanoid races (and there’s no reason to suppose otherwise).
But the thing is, as far as we know, probably only this one titan was ever actually killed (as opposed to made to sleep) and there is evidence that there were once many orbs, even if by the time Solas woke up again maybe there might be only the one left. 
For one, as people have noticed, there are more foci found in the Shattered Library in Trespasser. They aren’t the real objects, but rather memories of them. Still, for them to be memories, they presumably once existed.
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Even more compellingly, there’s banter between Dorian and Solas that is exclusively about foci in ancient Tevinter:
Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it's of elven origin, Solas?
Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?
Dorian: There are paintings in the Magisterium's archives of men holding similar orbs.
Dorian: They were depictions of a time long before the magisters. The ancient Dreamers, perhaps.
Dorian: The texts called those orbs "somnaborium"--"vessels of dreams." Could they be the same thing?
Solas: Perhaps. The humans of ancient times took much from the elves.
Dorian: And Corypheus isn't far removed from the time. Hmm.
So clearly at some point, even after Arlathan fell, there were multiple foci around. They were enough of a thing for the Tevinters to have given them a Tevene name. And there’s really no point in the devs putting this stuff in, unless they meant for us to know that the orb wasn’t unique.
Why couldn’t they be multiple titan hearts? We only know of one killed titan. Generally, the titans are referred to be sleeping, not dead. But even if removing their hearts, because of some weird physiology, only caused them to sleep and didn’t kill them… we actually know standard sleeping titans still have their hearts intact. Because we see a titan heart ourselves in The Descent, and that titan was put to sleep and severed from its children just like all the other titans, in no way unique to others of its kind (except that it happened to be especially close to the location of the Breach). It’s meant to reveal the general existence of titans and represent their general current state – that was the entire point of the DLC.
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What’s more, and this is why it really baffles me that the orb=titan heart theory is so broadly accepted, the titan heart we get to see looks nothing like the orb. 
Ignoring size and texture, the biggest discrepancy in their looks is the colour. Titan hearts are fittingly coloured lyrium-blue, since they presumably are the source of lyrium and everything to do with lyrium is associated with blue. 
The orb, however, is green – the colour associated with the fade and elves. It’s the colour of spirits, veilfire, the (also round) elvhen artefacts that stabilize the veil, the Fade’s general background and of course the rifts and rift magic. Ergo, the foci orbs are inherently elvhen in nature/made of fade magic. On top of Solas also explicitly saying it’s elven...
Even in the Trespasser mural image, if you look closely, you can see that the orb has a soft green glow, whereas the titan leaks blue lyrium veins. They are clearly distinguished by colour.
Lastly, ask yourself what the orb is said to do? It can open and close tears in the veil, including the Breach, and it’s supposed to even be able to take down the Veil completely according to Solas. (Probably he also used it to put up the Veil in the first place.) Looking at the Anchor as part of the orb, the Inquisitor can also “discharge it at will to protect their allies and to damage enemies”. In short, it’s entirely related to the Fade and the Veil, and it can be used as a powerful weapon. And again, the Tevinters called the foci “vessels of dreams”, which sounds like it can store something Fade-related, dreams being something inseperably connected to the Fade.
I believe the reason we see an orb at the place of the titan’s heart in the Trespasser image is simply because that’s what the elves USED TO KILL THE TITAN. The one thing about titans this shows is that you probably need to blow up their hearts to kill them. (Which also makes sense seeing how fiercely the Sha-Brytol and the Guardian protected the heart of their titan.) That’s what the orb in that image did, hence its position over the killed titan’s heart. That’s it. It’s no more mysterious than that.
 TL; DR: the orb was fundamentally an elvhen weapon with powers over the fade. No relation to titans other than that the elves used at least one orb to cause the death of at least one titan.
If I were to speculate, I’d say orbs were basically elvhen magic power banks (“vessels of dreams”) with the power detonate like bombs if sufficiently filled. I honestly don’t think the devs ever even intended there to be a mystery about them, since they spelled it out so clearly that they are elven magical weapons. 
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riftclaw · 8 months
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spoilers for superstars under cut, tagging is a pain in the ass now so that's just how we're doing things
when trip first came out i was like "i bet she's knuckles 2" and all of the prerelease content we've gotten so far (the short, the comic) is definitely pointing that way (she's shown hiding in the bushes when fang shows up, she obviously cares about the island's flora and fauna, she doesn't get why eggman and fang don't wanna be friends, there's a mural showing some kinda of ancient secret power that very clearly depicts other armoured lizards and some kinda powerful artefact)
which is not to say that it's bad or even if she won't stay a villain but the story beats are very similar so far which is interesting
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mybeingthere · 1 year
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Rabbits, 1933 by Jean Charlot (French, 1898–1979).
Charlot was born in Paris. His father, Henri, owned an import-export business and was a Russian-born émigré, albeit one who supported the Bolshevik cause. His mother Anna was herself an artist. His mother's family originated from Mexico City; his grandfather was a French-Indian mestizo. His great-grandfather had immigrated to Mexico in the 1820s shortly after the country's independence from Spain, and married a woman who was half-Aztec. This was likely the source of a myth which developed around Charlot casting him as a descendant of Aztec royalty.
From an early age Charlot was fascinated with the Mexican manuscripts and art in the collection of his Great Uncle Eugene, and by the pre-Columbian artefacts of a neighbour and family friend, Désiré Charnay, who was a well-known archaeologist. As a teenager he began learning the Aztec language, Nahuatl. He studied art in Paris before serving in the French Army during World War I. In 1920, his scale drawings for the mural decorations of a church were included in an exhibition of religious art at the Louvre.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jean_Charlot
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reframingyou · 1 year
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The artist must be nothing more than a “Medium”
Art transmutes you in an existential way, asks questions, and it connects you to worlds and conceptions you didn’t even know subsisted, at least not consciously. It’s a woeful truth most artists must reconcile at some point in their ingenious lives: the role of the arts is perpetually being queried. Many might question whether art is imperative , quite usually when the subject has to do with subsidizing arts curricula. For others, there is no debating the credence that the arts have never been more consequential to our society and should be plenarily integrated into our lives, our community and inculcation in general. I truly believe that artists, while doing what they do, are only a passage through which art flows out, almost as if born of itself, denuded of the artist's ego. The artist is no more or less than an implement in which great art is engendered. I believe that the artist should inherently experience their own means to an end, for their art to be born and flourish, lest their conscious presence detracts from the art itself. The artist must be nothing more than a “medium” through which art permeates, sanctioning for pristine expression devoid of the artist’s ego. The artist and their artwork’s symbiotic relationship must suffer for the art to flourish, to stand alone, to withstand the transmutations of time. The demise of the artist, which I believe occurs at the same time as the confinement of the art — be it carvings, painting, or making of films or music — sanctions the viewer/appreciator to enter the piece. First, art is the barometer that measures levels of cultural sophistication. Throughout human subsistence, we have learned about cultural accomplishments from the cultural artefacts left behind. Many of these artifacts have left behind sempiternal marks on the planet.
If a story is what the random attestations threaded together in uniform unvarying structure induces in its reader, then why shouldn’t the smears of paint, or obliterates on marble only thing to look at? Art can communicate information, shape our everyday lives. When you take a look at any brilliant works of architecture you notice how iconic structures are a piece of art that conveys paramount messages about the time, place and context in which the structure was engendered. In integration with providing commentary about the more larger culture, art makes life more manageable, tolerable and relishable.
One may not cerebrate about more utilitarian artefacts and places as art, but they do play a part in one’s inventive ordeal. Furthermore, art can elucidate to the conception of death. Cairenes mummified humans and laid them to slumber in sumptuous tombs, while today individuals place profoundly relished ones in the ground (or and adorn that reposing place with plaques, memorials and flowers.. El Dia de Los Muertos celebrates the passaging of doted ones and recollects them by visiting them, beni facing and the notion that their souls remain near. These cultural and societal norms, coalesced with our scientific discernment, allow us to process life and death more holistically. Personally, I think of big names such as mexican painter Diego Rivera , and how much we have gotten to peek into his soul thanks to his artwork, and many mural based portraits. I envision Jackson Pollock, which in all veraciousity , I can’t exactly comprehend what he was endeavouring to verbalize with his sublime colors...but I do comprehend what the art tried to convey to me, and how I feel moved and seen and accepted in front of them. I think of emerging artists. I think of Vincent Namatjira and his resplendent work. The artist needs to be alive, especially when their ideologies are salient in specific times and places. The artist might additionally have to die in their relationship with their engenderments, in order for us to fabricate our own relationship with the pieces and anatomization of them. For a lot of people, art has to be a voice, puissance, conveyance of life and more. Art drives humans to look beyond that which is indispensable to survive and leads people to engender and create for the sake of voice, expression and construal. In fact, I believe existence has no meaning without art. That in itself is how it brings society together because there is no experience without art.
Reframing you is an event organiser for artists and mental health experts globally. A non profit initiative that focuses on providing a FREE platform for people to communicate with experts in all fields from all around the world because not everybody has the privilege to do so. It prioritizes the benefit of people, mental health problems and for upcoming/well known artists to express themselves and talk about their journey and advise people who are interested in their field. Its anthem is “Reframe you, Reframe Society.”
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ryttu3k · 1 year
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Some speculation on plot elements. Spoilers for the game introduction, the points of interest around Kakariko, the stuff you learn at New Serenne Stables, and the beginning of the first mission (as far as I'm up to), as well as the third trailer.
Edit: Now includes spoilers up to the fourth [redacted] from the quests tarted at New Serenne, and the full Rito quest.
So it looks like the Sages are going to be a big element? I've now explored the four Ring Ruins around Kakariko that are actually accessible, and we know a bit about them now. The special stones, for instance, are likely going to be the titular Tears (the magatama things). The next question is, who will the Sages be?
One of the tablets mentions a few elements: "Wind, flame, water, lightning… and time… Light…" Since there's bits of grammar missing, we can't actually state definitively whether Time and Light are grouped with them, or, more interestingly, if there's a missing seventh element (based on the fact that Zelda lore basically always uses seven, and the fact that the mural in the introduction did show seven Tears!) The first few sages, too, easy enough to work out - the trailer and the four locations mentioned on the map all but confirm that the new sages of Wind, Flame, Water, and Lightning will be Tulin, Yunobo, Sidon, and Riju.
So, who represents Light and who represents Time? And what's the last one? Others used in the series include Forest, Spirit, and Shadow (Ocarina), and Earth (Wind Waker).
Rauru was almost certainly a Sage - it was his arm holding Ganondorf down, and his Tear that Zelda picked up. He could have been Light, like his namesake (…or vice versa), or he could have been Time, or alternatively he was Light and the Tear was non-specific and became affiliated with Time when Zelda picked it up. It's heavily inspired that Zelda in Ocarina is the Sage of Time (she's never given a title, but all her artefacts and powers are largely Time-based), so BotW/TotK!Zelda might have inherited that - and either way, she is the one to teach Link the time-based power of Recall. Either way, the Tear pulled Zelda back into the past, so it was either the Tear itself being Time-affiliated (meaning Rauru was the former Sage of Time), or Zelda herself being Time-affiliated and the Tears being neutral until picked up by a Sage.
Also relating to Zelda, Rauru, and Time - she's been yeeted back to the past. She might help establish the Sages? Man I need to find more geoglyphs. So I guess the question is more, was Rauru Time or Light? If Light, would he need a new successor? (Could that actually be Link? He does have 'the sword that seals the darkness', after all even if the Blade of Evil's Bane is an objectively cooler name.) If Time, then Zelda would be his successor.
For other candidates, working out what the last element is would help. Spirit probably wouldn't be present, since the Gerudo are now represented by Lightning. Forest… might be Hestu, haha. I don't actually think that's likely, given that story-wise, I would have included A Phenomenon around the forest too, to indicate that, so the last one would probably be a bigger deal plot-wise. Earth is unlikely as the two known Sages of Earth were Laruto and Medli, and Zora and Rito are already represented. Shadow, I would think, is my best bet, and a nice opposite to Light; in that case, it'd likely be a Sheikah. There's a ton of options here, although I'd say one of the more interesting options would be Josha, the young genius in charge of the Depths, which would draw the Depths into more plot significance other than 'there's lots of Gloom here'.
As for Ganondorf's involvement, the murals show him stealing a Tear, and he has it embedded in his headpiece. I have a feeling that after the first four, the second half of the game will involve the more mysterious three Sages, or at least two mysterious Sages, with the last one (Zelda, perhaps) needing to get her own Tear (instead of Rauru's old one) back from Ganondorf in able to unlock her true Sage abilities.
An interesting possible angle: Ganondorf was meant to be a Sage. The Tear was his all along. The other Sages disagreed (his connection with Rauru seems to be personal), that's what has caused all these issues. On the other hand, any possible connection between Rauru and Ganondorf is, um, problematic timeline-wise, given that Rauru is meant to be the first king of Hyrule and the Ganondorf from the continuity we know comes from well and truly after… unless this is the very earliest incarnation of Ganondorf and the others just come later? Like he's reborn as the one in OoT, timeline splits and goes on from there… honestly, where the hell does BotW/TotK come in the timeline, anyway? XD;;
And to conclude, MusicBee just started playing OoT's Chamber of Sages. Good timing.
(Needless to say, I'm just speculating here. Please don't spoil me for anything, I'm not very far into the game!)
Edit: Have now done the Wind Temple and found the next three geoglyphs, and we have some more answers!
Zelda in the past was explicitly the Sage of Time. May carry that through. Sonia and Mineru both confirm that Zelda carries both Sonia's Time power and Rauru's Light power; in the flashback the former Sage of Wind shows, we see seven figures that don't include Sonia. It's Rauru in front, Mineru and Zelda a bit behind, and then a Goron, the Rito, a Zora, and a woman who… may be Sonia but may not be, her skin is quite dark and I suspect she's the Gerudo.
So, if Sonia was the original Sage of Time, she may have passed the title on to Zelda for… reasons. Either something happens to her, or she passes it on for other reasons. Maybe pregnancy? We know she and Rauru have to have at least one child for, well, Zelda to exist, and if they don't have any kids already, she would need to at least be pregnant before Rauru dies. (Which, honestly, is just sad. He never gets to meet his own child!)
Mineru's title hasn't been revealed yet, but given that she described herself as being able to separate her spirit from her body, I'm guessing Sage of Spirit? I wonder who her successor will be? A Sheikah would be good representation. The four at the back we know. Zelda will likely carry on being the Sage of Time. Rauru now needs a successor, too. Maybe Link could carry Light as well as Rauru's arm?
An interesting note - Zelda and Rauru's stones are a paradox. Rauru's stone is in his hand. His arm binds Ganondorf in place. The stone comes off and releases Ganondorf. Zelda picks up the stone and winds up in the past, meeting Rauru - who still has his stone. But it's the same stone. It's technically not a closed paradox, since Rauru already has it, but it does mean he absolutely has to sacrifice himself / lose his arm in order for Zelda to eventually get it.
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penkraft123 · 1 year
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History Of Devanagari Script
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Devanagari is a combination of the word’s deva and nagari. Deva translates as “heavenly,” “divine,” or “deity.” Nagari derives from Nagaram, a Sanskrit word that means “town.” Devanagari can therefore be rendered as “from the home of divinity.” The ancient term Nagar gave rise to the name Devanagari.
Nagari was one of the primary scripts used for the Sanskrit literature and first appeared in the northwest of the Indian subcontinent around 633 CE. It was fully evolved by the 11th century CE.
The 1st to 4th century CE inscriptions found in Gujarat provide some of the earliest epigraphic evidence of the development of the Sanskrit Nagar script in ancient India. [10] Nagar script variants, which are recognisable as being close to Devanagari, are first documented in Sanskrit Rudradaman inscriptions from the first century CE,Inscriptions from the Middle Ages indicate widespread use of scripts related to the Nagari, with scripts exhibiting local script alongside the adoption of Nagari scripts. For instance, the Siddha Matrika script and an early Telugu-Kannada script can both be found on the Pattadakal pillar from the middle of the eighth century in Karnataka.
By the seventh century CE, the Nagari script was in widespread use, and by the end of the first millennium, it had reached its full development. Numerous pillar and cave-temple inscriptions, like the 11th-century Udayagiri inscriptions in Madhya Pradesh, attest to the employment of Sanskrit in Nagari script in mediaeval India.
Moreover, the British Museum is home to an inscribed brick from 1217 CE that was discovered in Uttar Pradesh. Prototypes of the script and related variations have been found alongside historic artefacts outside of India, in places including Sri Lanka, Myanmar, and Indonesia. Buddhists in East Asia used the Siddha Matrika script, which is thought to be the closest ancestor of Nagari has historically been the foremost among the Indian scripts.
It has been used by religiously educated people in South Asia for a very long time to record and convey information, coexisting alongside a wide range of regional scripts (such as Mo, Kaithi, and Mahajani) used for administration, trade, and other daily activities all throughout the country.
In Kashmir, Sharada is still used in parallel. The Kutila inscription of Bareilly, which dates to VS 1049 (992 CE), exhibits the formation of the horizontal bar to combine letters pertaining to a word in an early form of Devanagari. [1] With a writing date of roughly 150 BCE and a transcription date of the 14th century CE, the 1,413 Nagari pages of a commentary by Patanjali are one of the earliest Sanskrit manuscripts from the early post-Maurya period still in existence.
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