(A/N: Takes place before the events of [This Entry].)
Eyes as black as the darkest night bored into the white, adamant gem set into the ring lying in the palm of her elegant hand. Within the gem, if one looked as intently as she did, there could be see seven small lights shining in place of the seven stars of the Valacirca that they were clearly meant to represent; whether puposefully set there by the ring's maker or coaxed into shining from within the natural warp and formation of the adamant itself remained unknown to her, though she had been a witness to part of its creation, so natural and seamless was the work.
With her free hand, Calids lightly clutched at the pendant about her neck, also set with an adamant. Hastaina spoke nothing to her - though it never did until it felt the need to - and yet, she could almost hear it humming ever so faintly. She chose to believe that such a reaction did not bode any ill. Long days and weeks had she poured over this bauble, trying to divine its purpose or function. Of all the cherished works her father had made, this one had never been formally presented to the Mírdain. It had also never been destroyed like many of his other works when war had come to their doorstep. How many other things did her father not destroy? Were they still out there in other hands? Were they being properly used and cared for?
Calidis shook her head to herself and refocused upon her task. She took the ring, Circamírë, in between her long fingers and held it up to the light that shone from the domed window atop the Chamber of Stars which seemed to make the seven lights within shine all the brighter. She contemplated the very stars the lights were meant to represent and the lore surrounding them. Even amongst her own kin, who regarded the powers that be with an often suspicious and distrusting eye, Varda Elentári, known as Elbereth to the Woodelves, was greatly revered, for it was her stars that were first seen at Cuiviénen.
Yet she had never felt such kinship with the Starkindler. Her lot had always been thrown in with the Lady of Pity and Mourning. When she looked to the stars she felt far away from them. When she looked within herself she found a well of grief and love mingled together that brought her heart closer to the Halls of Fui which she would now never see by her own choice. How too could she even hope to understand this trinket her sire had wrought when she couldn't even understand the fabled closeness with and love of the stars themselves?
And then, a thought came to her unbidden, and she was certain it did not belong to herself.
Yet the stars and their maker remain to watch over you, even if you do not look up.
A moment passed and Calidis Merifindiel blinked. Circamírë, still held aloft between her fingers, had taken on a glow as the light from the glass-paned dome passed through it and seemed to be illuminated further, bringing light to the room and even into the dark depths of her eyes, though it was not piercing. Yet, she felt that perhaps it could be; as piercing and painful as truth could be at times.
And when she blinked again, the ring dimmed again and the lights within gleamed within the jewel as they ever did before. One might have questioned whether what had just occured was even real and yet a seasoned jeweller such as Calidis could feel the tendrils of ringmagic that drifted through the air about her until they too became faded and gone.
"... Ring of truth I might call thee," she whispered to it in her mother tongue, pressing the bauble into her palm once more. "But that, I think, is only one part of the puzzle."
