On the way southward, I have come across a curious song. It was oddly calming in a way, a tad reminiscient of my time spent on Aeklast. Always, and by that I mean that nature always had a way to draw me away from all the issues of society, noise and anxiety. So I took a small liberty and abandoned the path for a short bit, went into the fields and sat onto the ground in great comfort. Winds blew, grass waves rushed nimbly near me. Then that song. Brief, yet over and over it repeated time to time. I decided to bring Sahyl onto my lap. Had her opened up on an empty page and went to draw five parallel lines across the left side horizontally. Without ink it would be impossible, however, to do so, so I procured a bit of liquid mana too just in case. Dipped one talon into the small container, and jotted a few odd notes down and that is when the olden lady lit up with my signature hues: White and Gold. Within a bit the process was done, and by Rohana... I believe this might just be it- I knew what I was going to do. So with all my things packed and a song in my book and head, I began back North before finishing my business with Noriesi and his people.
With Vittilaus' Staff in my hand, it is much easier to traverse the otherwise harsh North. Without cold ailing me at all, I have conquered my greatest elemental weakness. So I approached The World Forge, walked around its perimeter a few times, then journeyed into the middle where tall and undaunted stands the tallest totem of them all; That of Life. There was a Sword laying around in the Seerhold, one that the Iceborn Dragonkin gave me during my stay while their brief war lasted. An old armament, yet it will do a good service once more, so I thought. Within an hour all ingredients were gathered for one purpose, to create something that isn't too otherwordly, yet still has great impact on its user, and it also provides a new approach to situations should the wielder be creative enough.
As the process began, the dragon skulls' hollow sockets lit up one by one. An odd sensation traversed down my spine and into the ends of my digits; My talons burned with a newfound pain, a tinge which was to alert my senses that the essence gathered should about be enough. Then I began that olden process that I worked out way back... Talons sunk into the blade, its form seemingly melted beneath my touch, yet its construct remained entirely intact. Signs of a language of my own began to manifest across the blade, each symbolizing an emotion, an aspect, a purpose. All serving a sequence, a small code just for this one goal. "And your name-" I said... "- shall be Hush."