It's evening at the shrine of Lagoma, winter has wrapped the city in a chilly blanket of pure white snow as it still falls gently absent a breeze. Here in the shrine, there are braziers that are roaring with fire here and there to give light and warmth. There's children dancing around and decorating small evergreen trees in pots to be planted in spring. Folks are singing as a few musicians are playing merry tunes, the voices driving out the cold. Others are enjoying freshly baked goods or warm spiced drinks while talking around the fires. Roran is here, wearing a great red cloak with white fur trim keeping him warm as he has a lute and is walking around playing while others are singing. There's quite a lot of laughter and smiles on his face. It's a great moment for newcomers to enter the shrine and introduce themselves.

The cold weather isn't keeping Medeia from being out and about the city - without complaint, rare for a Lycene. Her guards follow, though they respectfully leave their weapons outside of the shrine so they can participate in the celebration. Medeia moves forward to light a candle, and then seeks out a cup of warm, spiced cider. Her gaze moves around the celebration looking for anyone she knows, but she is easily distracted by watching the revelers and smiling about them enjoying themselves.

Merek walks along and into the place with his beltcape on and a hood up, taking the time to look about while he finds a place to settle in and relax. He will watch the flame of Lagoma and listen to the people. The crowd seems to distract him, which is just what he needed while he takes the time to begin drawing.

Roran makes his way through the crowd, welcoming folks of note like Medeia with a cheerful "Those slippers look like ice! Beautiful!" and over towards Merek who is starting to draw. "Now how special will that be, the last drawing of the year and the very first for the new year!"

Coming to the front of the crowd, he sets the lute down and then lifts his hands to get their attention as the celebratory noise dies down. With a joyous and heartfelt chuckle, he welcomes them all. "Hello and good evening new friends, old friends and friends yet to be! It's so good to see you here tonight braving the cold snow when I know you could be somewhere else warm and for that, thank you! Help me say goodbye to 1015 and greet 1016!"

"Before I do any preaching, I'd like to welcome any and all to be exceptionally brave and share with us something this year that's been hard for you, and something which you've overcome. Then I'll ask you all to pray with me and we'll light some candles. So who'd like to share?"

Slipping into the room with nary a sound, Sister Wilhemina settles onto one of the benches by a tree, tilting her head as she watches the Archlechtor. There's not a single twitch in her features to indicate what exactly she feels as she watches, but her hands remains folded on her lap and she's paying him her full attention.

Raimon cautiously stands forward, and offers: "Pretty interesting year for me. Started it shipwrecked and abandoned on a deserted island. Ended it here, in Arx ... with all that has come to signify. Clearly, being stranded was hard. Not in the sense of personal hardship, or even starvation. I think what I struggled most to overcome were the feelings of Isolation, of Loneliness, and the yammering of my own thoughts telling me I was 'missing everything.' The greatest Change that happened, this year, was the inner change born out of deep Stillness."

Raimon sets a poem, which he has written about the experience, next to whatever other offerings may be. Any and all are welcome to read it: https://pastebin.com/vMTyTBGn If part of the ritual involved burning something in Lagoma's Flame, it's -totally fine- if this one gets burnt.

Her slippers? Medeia looks down, poking one foot out and looking down at it. "Oh, I suppose they do." She smiles and settles somewhere mostly comfortable. A polite wave of greeting is give to Merek. Then, her attention is back on Roran, listening to his opening words, expression thoughtful. "I could share, yes." She seems to be making the decision as she speaks, giving a short nod in emphasis. "Something that has been hard for me has been being caught in the midst of the rising tensions in the Isles. But I overcame some of my fears - particularly those around motherhood."

"Blessed Roran." Wilhemina greets with something resembling warmth, though her lips do little more than twitch. "I had hoped to catch you one of these days. This is a fine event that you've held. And I do appreciate the mental exercise here. I am thankful that, despite the many changes in the past few years, our Lady of Change hasn't made it anything beyond what we could cope with."

Merek looks around and will stand up, before he places something upon the altar. It's nothing special, nor of note. But he wouldn't really feel it was right if he didn't offer anything probably.

Roran listens to those who share struggles and where they overcame. "Often folks come to me when they feel like they're at the end of their rope. They've had problems pile up and they're overwhelmed. And just as often, I tell them I wish they'd come to me sooner! Remember that you have the faith here to help you, that's what we're here for and I can tell you with hand on heart, my door is always open to share a cup of tea, let you hold a cat while we chat and you won't be the same person who entered as you leave. You don't have to face your inner demons or problems alone, the faith is there to stand in your corner and help you up if you fall. Thank you prince Raimon, lady Medeia and the rest for sharing. Never is easy to share publicly but goodness knows others can learn from your examples." Seeing Wilhemina, he beams a pleased warm smile and gives a personal wave towards her.

"The past year has been one of hardship, struggles and hurt. From far off places like Eurus where people have fled from slavery, death and persecution as they seek refuge within the safety of the Compact and faith here in Arvum as so many have opened their arms to accept and provide charity to these hurting peoples. To the recent wars where we've lost family, loved ones, friends and companions which leave huge aching gaps in our hearts and many of us feeling alone. To the division created by mad folks bent on burning the world because they don't want to see the good work of the gods done and their jealousy and envy clouds their judgment. 1015 might just feel like a field that's burned and took our homes, the hurt and hardships very real. Some big, some small, but all real."

"But remember what comes with a new season. That field will grow if we tend to it, if we work to help heal it, nurture it and in return it'll provide for us all. For this new year, often we talk about how we'll do something different this year to improve ourselves. But I'd challenge you all to try each day to go out and heal a little hurt you encounter. Where you'd normally say no, say yes. Give freely as Gild loves, be that second-wind when someone is exhausted like Mangata. Look after each other like Petrichor loves us to do. In what we do, do the right and honourable thing as Sentinel and Gloria ask. Be joyful and inspire others as Jayus who are facing difficulties. Seek out to learn about your neighbours and friends so you can increase the fidelity between yourselves, as Vellichor and Limerance would want. Be the one who offers new beginnings for someone else who faces a problem that feels like a door is shut, like the Queen. Be responsible, accountable as you exercise all your choices and be the one who doesn't hinder the choice of others but helps them find wisdom in homage to Skald. Recognise in each other all what makes us human, mortal. That we're frail but in that frailty is all the wishes and desires to be the agents to make the world better for Aion. And as you do all these things, we begin to see that all the little hurts and divisions we heal will create a positive and amazing change, which Lagoma will see."

"Come line up, take a candle and light it with the Flame of Lagoma. Say a silent or public promise to Lagoma to help heal a small hurt you come across and make things. Then take these candles back home to light your window. And in this last dark night of 1015, may we share the light of the gods in our hearts as is on our window sills and bring a bright new year of hope and change in. Happy new year!"

Blue, a cantankerous western bluebird arrives, following Gael.

Medeia bows her head the Roran when he mentions her. She has not been one much afraid of speaking up - or out - publicly. But she doesn't say anything in response as the archlector continues to speak. Her eyes close, letting his words wash over her, a smile of bright appreciation and agreement lights her features. When the invitation to light a candle and make a promise is made, she's one of the first on her feet to step forward. "Blessed Roran, thank you for those reminders." Taking up a candle, she makes her promise aloud, "I promise to continue my work healing the bodies of the people of the Compact, and I will keep a sharper eye out for small hurts that I can heal, as well."

Merek will take the time to get in line. "Thank you," he offers to Roran when it's time in line for him to light the candle. He does that, and it looks like he in fact has a special candle prepared, which he uses for this thing. With that lit, he will place it into a special covering, and nods. Then it's back to seat.

"Blessed Roran, I thank you once again for emphasizing what the true ideals of Lagoma are. Not just change. But positive change." Wilhemina says as she approves to take a candle to light with the flame of Lagoma. She closes her eyes for a few moments before moving away, dipping her head at the archlector once again.

A man's sliver seeps in from the outside beyond the shrine's grounds, quick and furtive, him embedded amidst a group of faithful freshly entered to pass inside more-or-less unseen and, hopefully, undisturbed. Wearing a thin and blackened hood sewn to a thinner mantle for a cape, he moves within, past benches, accolades, and carven pillars. As he comes to a pause before Lagoma's flame, right at the beginning of the line, a shaft of light from its center shines across his face -- Gael's face. It reveals a perfectly squared, lightly bearded wedge punctured with a variety of scar tissue that makes the lowest portion of his weary visage. There he quietly stands, patient as it progresses.

Roran is pleased as punch it seems and picking up his lute, he strums it again and says to those gathered "Go in peace and with the blessings of the gods, take your light out in the dark and make the world brighter." And with that, the ceremony concludes but folks do stay to once more make merry in the late hour of winter.