Starfall

Location unknown

A large meadow, the grasses a fetching hue of teal, spread out across the landscape, not far from where waves gently lap at a shoreline. A tree with broad, ruddy leaves reaches out to catch the bright white sunlight, and a conical building looking like nothing so much as a conch shell grown to stupendous size sits nearby.

Telamon stands there, looking around in confusion and wonder, before his expression clears. "...It's a dream. Wait... I know this place." Dressed in simple cotton garments, he seems mildly out of place. "Watcher, are you there?"

A soft susurrus, before the flumph known as the Watcher In The Stars comes around the building. ((Indeed, friend Telamon. It has been long since we have spoke. It is good to see you again.)) The Watcher's tentacles shift and curl as it floats towards Telamon. ((I hope I do not interrupt.))

The half-elven sorcerer looks bemused, before shaking his head. "Er... no, you're not. I was just... well, sleeping." Tel offers a smile to his strange mentor. "It's good to see you as well, though."

He looks around. "This is where Periandr's miscast ritual carried him, isn't it? Is he here in the dream as well?"

The Watcher beckons to Telamon, and the two begin to walk around the large, weirdly organic building that the flumph calls home. ((He sleeps. He has passed through anguish and fury, and is now coming to grips with what has transpired. For all his flaws he is an eager student, and I suspect he can only hold out so long before devoting himself to his studies in earnest.))

They pause by a small pool, which does not reflect the sky, but instead a strange, cyclopean city of vast buildings and bridges. Far down, a small black blob of -something- can be seen trundling along one bridge. ((He is more receptive than some. I have been attempting to make some form of peaceful contact with this entity, an intelligent ooze-like creature of great size and power.))

Telamon listens to the Watcher's report on Periandr, nodding. "Maybe in time he'll return to Ea, a better and wiser man for it." At the sight of the pool, and the strange sight, Tel quirks an eyebrow. "Right. And have you had any luck, Watcher?"

The Watcher's tendrils twitch, and Telamon realizes it's a physical tic indicating embarrassment. ((...No. The creature has destroyed my projection six hundred and forty three times. Though of the last twenty two times it has allowed me to get out more than a couple words. In fact, the most recent attempt I was able to speak for sixteen minutes before it obliterated my image.)) A pause. ((Sometimes, patience is key.))

Telamon's mouth opens, and then he shakes his head, "Six hundred and... Watcher, with all due respect, maybe it doesn't want to be your friend. Or anyone else's. There are people out there who prefer solitude -- this might be one of them." He snorts. "Can't squeeze blood from a stone, after all."

((An inaccurate analogy. But still, it is my time to expend in the pursuit.)) The Watcher drifts over to a flourishing garden. None of the flowers look like anything Telamon has ever grown, or for that matter seen -- except for a small, sturdy Althean rosebush, proudly growing among the strange plants. ((However, I did not call to you for debate on this issue, but to ask for your help.))

Tel's eyebrows rise again, seeing the blue roses among the other, alien flowers. "How did... nevermind. I don't want to know. But knowing your love of growing things, it doesn't surprise me." He reaches out to touch one of the rose blossoms gently, before looking back to the Watcher. "Alright. I only reserve refusal for anything that takes me off Ea. We are... kind of busy at the moment."

((I understand. In fact, this task is coming to you.)) The Watcher pauses. ((A long time ago, my fellows and I... hm. We crafted an egg, and cast it into the reaches between stars. Sending it towards Ea. Within it, are one hundred forty-four of our young.)) A gesture with a tendril, and an image of a greenish-blue orb appears, with an oily-looking sheen. ((Soon it will arrive. But... fate has intervened. It will not land in the ocean, where it should, but on dry land where it cannot hatch.))

Telamon blinks slowly. "...Suddenly you not really understanding my relationship with Lana makes a lot more sense. Although..." He tilts his head. "How long has this egg been traveling? How far?"

((The numbers would not mean anything to you, and indeed are... mutable, thanks to spatial and temporal fluxes. We thought we had predicted everything, but you have a charming saying about the Laughing Sparrow, whom you call Tarien--))

"Yeah. Tarien laughs. Plans sometimes don't work out." Telamon rubs his chin. "Do you know where and when it will come down? How heavy is it? I may need help to get it out if it's in the deep woods."

((Within twenty evenings. I have predicted its landing pace, and you will awaken with it in your mind. It is strong enough to survive falling to the surface of your world, but it must be retrieved, and cast into the ocean. Take whoever might aid you, do whatever you see fit. I entrust you with the future of these young in this matter.)) The Watcher's tendrils drift back and forth, a deep sadness coming from it. ((I only wish I could be there myself.))

Telamon tries to imagine the distances, the conviction it would take to send one's children so far, perhaps never see them at all. "Why would you do this, Watcher?" he finally blurts out. "Could you not have raised them in your own home, here?"

The Watcher's dark, starry eyes, alien and yet very similar to Telamon's, gaze back at him. ((Because your world needs them, friend Telamon. The accursed ones, the dark gods... you have many foes. This is how we truly strike back. Not through simple force of arms, but by whelming mentors and guardians to stand shoulder to shoulder with you against evil.))

The intensity, and compassion, in that gaze causes Tel to avert his own stare. "I can't raise them myself, Watcher," he says weakly. "In time I will have my own children to tend to."

((Fear not. The flumph are not as the people of Ea. We learn innately, connected to the past.)) The Watcher pauses. ((Some will die. But enough will live to grow, and spread, so that your world will have new protectors against the dark. You will not face challenges alone.))

Telamon exhales harshly. "Alright. So I just... collect the egg, and cast it into the ocean. Should be a piece of cake. Once that's done, they'll... start growing and learning on their own." Tel looks at the Watcher again. "Hell of a gamble you took, sending them here. Unless..." He pauses, his eyes narrowing. "...I was part of it too. You once said you predicted my coming. I'm here, because Ea needed heroes, but also because you needed someone to collect the egg, which... makes more heroes." He shakes his head. "Watcher, you are one -devious- person, you know that?"

The Watcher spreads its tentacles in a way suggesting it appreciates the comment. ((The world does need you. Cor'lana needs you. But I needed you too. As do my children. I would not deny Ea a champion, or Cor'lana a partner, regardless.))

Telamon smiles. "Yes. And I need her. But... I can be many things. Husband, diplomat, sorcerer, brother-by-bond, mentor... and this too." He offers his hand to the Watcher. "So do I just wake up, or..."

The Watcher carefully places a tentacle in Telamon's hand for a shake, before raising another up to eye level. "Indeed. Give my best to your friends." And with that, it taps on Telamon's brow, once--

--and Telamon sits bolt upright in bed, back in the magnificient mansion spell he uses often for a retreat with his wife so they don't crowd Verna and Auranar too much while the house is being rebuilt and remodeled. The image of a forested area thrumming in his head, and an awareness of something coming. "Damn," he mumbles, rubbing his face. "The things I do for friends..." With that, he settles back down next to Cor'lana, cuddling up to her as she murmurs, and soon he goes back to sleep.