#baronyofthesilverwolf

Gwen smiles "Yeah"

"Me? Not being-...." A frown. "I need to get my lost sister back. They tell you why this shindig is happening early?"

"I was supposed to get sained with Art."

She listens, and nods to the question, and listens again. As they approach the Dais, she steps up first, and offers Thistle a hand.

She takes the hand with a murmur of thanks.

Taking her hand, she does not immediately pull her up, but holds it for a moment, and murmurs to Thistle. "You know that a boon is owed. You may ask it of your Liege. Or, you may appeal to a Higher Authority." A smile plays on the corners of the knight's lips. "You never know who might listen. Mind that you don't mar the code."

Her eyes glance down, and if Thistle looks, she sees that the dais is covered - not in runes or symbols, but lines and lines of very neat code - just as Eldritch, just as incomprehensible. There is also a small podium with a mystical item - oh, it's a small rubber duck. Set as though it is watching over and guiding the ceremony.

Head-tilt.

One can almost hear the gears turn.

While Thistle ponders, the Dame steps forward and raises her hands. Gradually the chatter dies...

Music is playing softly in the background, D'Lorean on her harp, but it too dims as hands go up

"Since the first fae started along the Changeling Way, the ritual of Saining has been part of our life. Each Changeling, and indeed, every thing that exists, has a True Name, though we are fated, from one life to the next, to forget our True Names, and learn them anew. It is a cycle, a symbol, that of return from the far shores of death back into the world of the living, a rebirth - Spring out of Winter.

The words are traditional, but new to Thistle. She can see faces she knows in the audience, all watching the Namer - and her.

"Today, we are blessed by Da'an to seek the True Names of one who had been fostered by Silverwolf Barony. Under the eyes of the Baron and Baroness, Kithain, and Mortals, friends and Kin alike, and under the Authority of Countess of Bold Heart, today, you will be fully accepted into Fae society. Any titles that you may have earned in past lives will be conferred upon you anew, and, if you wish, you may swear an oath of vassalage as a member of the Silverwolf Barony."

A title? An oath? Is she ready for all of that? Maybe THEY were...

"This Saining is not, as we all know, at a year and a day. Who would speak for the Fledge, to vouch for her readiness for her Name, her worthiness for this honor?" She gazes around, inviting anyone present to speak.

Blink. She never even considered a title... or an Oath...

Nadeen clears her throat, "I would speak of her, as a Baroness speaks of a fledge of such quality- with pride, interest, and a small degree of fondness I cannot contain. " She moves forward and adresses the crowd "Thistle has faced more challenges than any fledge should. The Gray grip, Thallian threats..."

Sylvi watches Nadeen with a pleased expression. Good job, leader lady.

She continues "Oh she was protected, and taught, but it must be noted that even unsained she was a force not just of creation, but dedication. Her help against thallian threats, her support of her fellows, and yes, the beauty of her works, are all a part of the special admixture of this wondrous nocker who came among us. She is most worthy of respect, and has the respect of the Baron and Baroness of Silverwolf, and so many others. I look forward to seeing her come out of the Kiln of naming,fiery and as she always was but more so"

And she inclines her head to Thistle

Aiden's eyes glow, and he bows his head to Thistle, showing he backs every word his lady said.

Marigold steps forward, and speaks to Thistle's kindness, even with a sharp edge, and how she is caring to the very least of them, even the Neverlanders that others will forget or ignore.

Oh my, are her cheeks red and her spirals a mix of pink and orange.

Behind Thistle, the Namer is softly whispering, she should be able to hear it, but the words flow around her and through her, but cannot be caught. She can only hear the voices from those who step forward.

Sylvi stares, fascinated.

She tugs on the hem of her vest again - she's in the voile she chrysalized in, the fanciest set she owns. It's got a riot of colors that should clash, but somehow work.

Her fingers are glowing. Did they always glow? Never far from her side Citrine buzzes around her, though the other chimera have gone - distracted, or perhaps, kept out by the magical working? Dame Artemis notices, but she is already rapt in the chant, and either is unable to, or does not wish to, object.

Gladiola steps forward "I am Dame Gladiola, harken now to the words of a Daireann, for we have words aplenty by House, even if my kith is a quiet one. Know that at one time, she seized the reins of a black and white charger of Law and order, and did trample the enemy thallian that would have harmed a peer. Know that the Dance that Never was choreographed by her to light up treachery, and that she is a boon companion to prophets and muppets alike. I have witnessed this, Daireann boast too freely, but it is the truth"

She brings her hands up higher to look at them.

There is a cadence to it, border line poetry, she practiced this, however it works now

And if any know Mr. tibs, they mgiht recognize some of his guidance in such

Gwen's voice carries through, and echoes in Thistle's head, with the ring of truth.

The light is somehow both on, and inside, her fingers, coming from without and within at the same time!

"She's not nearly as annoying as some folks" Blossom adds, eager to be a part of this.

"Fascinating..." She mutters under her breath. Like a pot, glowing from the kiln. Fire within and without.

Sylvi grins and nods approval at Gwen when she finishes.

For a moment it seems like that is all, but the final line of code remains dim, and a mote of light flickers - no, not a flicker, a steady flash, a cursor waiting for the last bit of input.

Art steps forward.

Nadeen beamed at Dame Gladiola's talk, but then looks tolerant at Blossom her interest rises as Art steps forward

Lavender looks tempted to put in her two cents, but decides just to watch the show.

Oh, good for you, kid, Sylvi thinks as Art steps forward.

"Thistle. You've always said that you only Chrysalized because of me, like you were some sort of after thought. While it's true that one lead to the other, I disagree that that makes you any lesser. When we are together, I feel like you challenge me - to be more, to be better, to be all I can be. We bring out the best in each other - we're racing, not against, but side by side, towards the next goal. I may have started a few steps ahead, but if I stayed there, was because you pushed me forward. And now, you will outpace me. But we're not competing. If we were, you'd win, by a landslide. Because you're strong, you're brave, and you never give up. You've earned your name."

"I'll never let you fall behind, and wherever you go, sooner or later? I'll always catch up. You're my best friend. We're in this together."

He gives her a Thumbs Up.

The final line of code glows, and the Namer's chant is rising to a crescendo. Thistle sees Art, and for a moment, it looks like her own light is reflecting back off him?

Thistle has been prepared as a vessel - and whether she is ready or not, the dreaming comes pouring in! She is filled with magic, and for a moment, it feels like she might explode. A reagent under pressure, a pot fired at high heat - will she shatter?

Nadeen looks at Aiden at this

He frowns, and watches. Considering. At this point, it is out of his hands.

HE Knows better than to interrupt a Working, after all.

She... can't. She can't shatter.

She loves being this - despite the doubt and the fear that plague her, she loves this. This world of color and magic and wonder.

Lavender almost leans over her harp Bring it in, make it yours and own it, girlfriend!

Her friends - Gwen and Dee and Marigold and Bluebell. Even Briar and Willy. And the Nevers. Citrine. Art.

At the height of the magic, the Dame says to Thistle, but in a voice that somehow carries, and resonates in every fae, giving them a pang of reminder of the day they were Sained. "Deeds proud or humble, infamy or glory, call on the Dreaming to reveal your true story!"

All, that is, except for Art. Of course.

Sylvi has that moment of remembering...but she was so little back then....