People to Gather in Large Numbers to Help Find Assistance for Wren

(Crossing, Zoluren: 264 Moliko 355)

Earlier this week, a voice had whispered to the assemblage in the cavity below the Crossing which once held the Lute. Where we had seen the bardess Wren on two separate occasions lately.

The voice said in a way that seemed it was only speaking to me, "It takes many feathers to make a wing, many voices to make a chorus, many of faith to form a shield."

And urgently it continued, "Til one of each is gathered, each race, each altar, each path, those that remember, those that do not, all feathers, til then my aid can avail you none, children of the land."

With a solemn quietness we heard finally, "Under the sky let you seek, the children may find what the parent has lost, the parent may do what the child cannot."

First, there was much confusion and chaos as the words sunk in. Then we struggled to find their meaning. After quite a while of time, we found what we thought we needed and went to Damaris’ shrine, out in the open north of town, and gathered there. We sang, and prayed, and hoped for the best.

But it was not to be that day. Many fell from the numbers gathered, and in hindsight, we realized that we had not formed one complete circle. It was disappointing.

And so after a full night’s sleep we decided to attempt what had been tried the previous day, only this time to make sure everyone was in the same circle. We gathered at the Lute Room — and while the songs and prayers were inspiring, we did not sense anything was coming to fruition.

And so we moved, then, to the ruins of our own Temple . . . 

They gathered from every walk of life. From each of the Seven Races, people came. Sacrifice orbs of each of the Thirteen Immortals had been prepared. Family. Friends. Strangers. People brought out their wren feathers, bards their wren feather picks, and held them. Young folk to whom the Gorbesh or Wren were just stories from the past, and many who had weathered the hardships of the long Red Winter and Sorrow’s Spring of 354. People who had never seen or heard of the Lute before stood with those who had defended it. Newcomers to town joined the circle, too. They were all there.

They all formed a circle in the ruins of our temple, and under the skies, sang, prayed, hoped, and persevered for the aid the people of Elanthia needed to bring aright what has been taken.

With this act of faith, everyone present heard the soft whispers in our hearts, speaking with authority.

"Three feathers are but found, more will assure you success. Thy faith and numbers strong, my aid yours when time I may."

Then the voice whispered ever so faintly, "Thy faith and numbers strong, my aid yours when time I may. Sleep in faith I will never leave thee alone, thus you prove your faith in deed and word."

Finally, the voice whispered even quieter, "Sleep in faith I will never leave thee alone."

Hearts soared with this inspiration, surely it must be the touch of the Goddess’ voice which speaks so to us.

After a restful sleep, the People of Elanthia will gather once more at the temple today (Sunday) at 3 in the afternoon, as time is counted on the eastern shores.

Calls are going out far and wide for all those who bear Wren Feathers, and Wren Feathered Picks to gather in the Great Circle with us.

We do not know what will happen, we only feel the demand of urgency upon our hearts.

Quietly approach the temple at that hour, my friends, that we may raise our voices in faith, love, praise, and hope. That we may know what must be done to save Wren, to find the Lute, and to insure the continued safety of Music, and Elanthia.