Ivory stands at the front of the flight deck, leaning a little more heavily on her phylactery than she had in recent times--the orichalcum and adamant staff buttresses her stability as she stands at the bough, eight months pregnant. Atop it is a glistening orb, a quivering mass of congealed possibility that sings all songs at once. On her free hand is a great gauntlet of clockwork, and set in it's palm the very Hearthstone given to her by Ignis Divine. Ivory smiles as she approaches the railing, looking over to the cheering faces below. It wasn't supposed to be this easy, she told herself only for another part of herself to reply in turn: easy? This was easy?

Somber Reed approaches her daughter and sets an arm across her shoulders, squeezing lightly. Ivory hefts her phylactery into the air and begins to sing in a rasp of Old Realm that carries a deeply Primordial twang, the air of magic and sovereignty. She has none of Yomiko's talent but all of her circlemate's heart.

<<Child of my heart, born of a neverending dream,
You are cradled in light, bathed in a radiant gleam,
Flourish and grow, my mystical world,
Here you will ever belong,
Son of my yearning,
Daughter of hope,
Beautiful child of my song,
Although storms may descend,
Mountains and valleys may quake...
For the days that remain,
This is the promise I make
No shadow fall across this land,
Before the wind and fire I stand
And you my child will know no harm
Enfolded in my arms.

Out of death, life.
Out of night, day.
Glory from sorrow.
Out of grief, joy.
Out of storm, come strength for tomorrow.
Out of dust, gold.
Out of fire, air: comfort forsaken,
Out of rage, calm, out of loss find glory awakened...
Shine forever,
shine forever.>>


As her song crescendos, light wells up from each statue, arcing into a dome just above the Flower of the East. When all five beams converge, the day subsides briefly to night as the dome fills with deep blue lapis. The illusion of night lasts only a moment as Ivory's anima erupts--not from her, but from the sanctuary itself, a glorious raptor enfolding the desert and the Manse with star-flecked wings. It smiles, looks up to Ivory, and fades into a rain of golden stardust that settles on rooftops and the eaves of windows, rushing off the sides of the Flower's domed roof.

Somber Reed takes Ivory's phylactery gingerly as her daughter turns her attention to the quaking of the Imperial Manse. Veins of orichalcum striate its jade exterior, and a comet erupts from it's heart, blazing towards Ivory before hanging in the air before her. She reaches forward over the railing and clutches it, still hot from the geomantic forge.

"If the Manse is the Sword of Creation, then this is the jewel in its hilt," Ivory says softly. She refocuses and raises her free hand, revealing the Gem of Adamant Sorcery and its magitech setting. The Hand of the Great Maker whirs to life, adamant gears chiming brightly as they accelerate. Ivory gestures, raising her hand. Scrub grass follows suit, raising in tandem with her motion as the vastness of the desert succumbs to her will.

Exhausted, Ivory returns to her seat, with Seven-Leaved Prince floating just beside her. Ashrin calls out to his team of Wyldshapers, who approach the bough in Ivory's stead and begin the process of restoring fertility to the shaped land.