"It ultimately depends on what sect you belong to, brother."  The Yapatha woman's gentle smile remained steady, even as she clasped her hands in front of her.

"For example, some believe the Light to be just as you say.  From the cosmic cradle of nebulae to the dust of entropy and reformed again.  As for others..."  She furrowed those silver brows for a few moments as she attempted to explain her point.  "Raised I was to believe in the Light as a singular goddess, from Her all peoples and concepts flow from the cosmos to become part of the cycle before ultimately we return to Her.  When I study the culture and perspective of another, this is prayer.  When offering my wisdom and mediation, my benediction."

The other Yapatha nodded eagerly in turn, turning from their affectionate greetings of the others.  Poor Ikoral looked like he was about to turn a bright shade of maroon from it all, much to the silent amusement of Nervan and the audible chuckling of the High Wanderer.

"Gah!  Where are my manners?"  She bowed to the group, composing herself remarkably quickly despite the minor faux pas.  "Grand Cleric Areyiath, at the service of you and yours.  With me are Lightbearers Nehimh and Illaran."  She motioned to the somewhat younger-looking female and male respectively in her retinue (no small task considering their nigh-ageless and ethereal appearances).