The Death of a Librarian

[Tsuyose 3285]

 

Thirteenth of Malin’s Welcome, 1571; the date that marked the due death of a Champion.

 

Dawn arose over the settlement of Leon, casting an illuminant hue over the makeshift arena before the grand manor of the renowned Vindicators of the Lord of Sunlight. The hardened clay producing a dull gleam with a few specks of rubble here and there, indicating the removal of the fountain, and the placement of cast iron railing. A congregation of folk ranging from the Brotherhood to allies and friends of the Prophet of the Lord. Invited personally or merely brought along to observe the soon-to-be duel. Arranged at the behest of Orithur, the Enlightened Wraith, who challenged Herun Athna, slayer of Setherien before the gates to the desolate, tenebrous gates of the abyss.

 

The grand stature of the fabled Prophet stood strong and stoic, descendant from his Keepership and bound by his mortal coil; thick veins of scarlet blood coursed through his figure and pure flesh mounted his skeletal frame. To his left, bound by leather would be his longsword, forged from carbarum and bathed in molten liquid by the Prophet before Herun, Hilan I. The esteemed grandfather to the three siblings and arguably, the wisest, and strongest of their kin past and present. The blade was duly wrapped in a transparent enchantment of silken starlight and maintained by the current Prophet of Xan.

 

As the sun rose above the helm of the manor those bound by ash, forsaken their blood and flesh traversed the solemn grounds; Orithur approached the arena and drifted to its center, as did Herun, and the duo spoke beneath their breath.

 

“It is an honour.”

 

They both agreed upon these four, solemn words, to be felled by either or would truly be an honour to one another; to be the victor, would be an honour in itself. The duo withdrew and clutched the pommels of their blades taut, glowering upon one another. Herun, stoic, Orithur, lacking emotion as per the norm betwixt his limbo of life and death. Silence befell the arena and an eerily wind blew through the heavens, the cloud split, and the phenomenon renown as ‘sunbreak’ tore through the clouds to shine over the duo. Eventually, the Keeper of Order, Leric, broke the silence, and the dual began.

 

Orithur began his advance and Herun remained solemn, feigning his defence and easily parrying the blade, and it went on, with Herun maintaining the defence with Orithur pressing his frenzied advance against the hardy, elderly warrior, Herun suffered nought a wound against Orithur’s immolated blade, the Elder Wraith, however, suffered wound after wound as Herun parried his blows and responded with his own. Truly, the Wraith was no match for the seasoned Vindicator. Eventually, as their blades locked a second time, three-quarters of the way into the battle the back of Orithur’s gauntlet collided against Herun’s skull, causing his grand stature to fling backward from the sheer force of Orithur’s physical prowess. With his own aid, he managed to gain a sturdy distance between the duo.

 

“Foul play? I was content without using the innate power of Hilan’s blade, however, if that is the case, then I hold no regret.”

 

“It was expected, you should have come into the arena with knowledge of what was to come.”

 

From the length of the sapphire blade, the runes engraved across its spine began to ignite with tethers of an azure flame spurring from its length, igniting it into a deific flame from an enchantment reminiscent of the fabled Hilan I. Herun, temporarily overwhelmed with newfound rage promptly calmed as he reverted back to his original composure, blade tilted down, feigning his defence once more until Orithur abruptly advanced with two strikes, the first feigned, however, it provided Herun with another time to cock the blade upward in a diagonal strike to produce an out-going flurry of azure fire, colliding against the Elder Wraith and slamming him backward against the iron railing. The azure embers would promptly consume the innards of Orithur, relishing in the blight as it fueled its advancement. Eventually, Orithur composed himself too, however, he was considerably weakened and lacking any means of continuing the duel he fell forth at the center of the arena.

 

“I submit.”

 

The Prophet, however, disobeyed his initial attempts at submitting, and he demanded Orithur pick up his blade, twice he tried, and twice he failed.

 

“I... submit..”

 

Orithur reiterated with his helmet hung low and with a struggled gait the seasoned Vindicator marched onward, eyes wide as he contemplated; mercy, or death. As the duo whispered to one another, even as Orithur defended his own execution, the librarians begged for mercy; Orithur continued, however, defending his death further, even as Adrian expressed the dishonour, the Wraith countered it, expressing that it was a duel to the death. No more, no less. Honour was to be had.

 

Carbarum against carbarum, Man pitted against Ash, and light, versus dark. The inevitable always came to be. With one fell swoop Herun Athna, Prophet of the Lord of Sunlight, slayer of Setherien, and defender of Man, arose victorious; in a state of effulgence, and Orithur beheaded..

 

Thirteenth of Malin’s Welcome, 1571 truly marked the death of an Ashen One, bound by Ash and forsaken of blood; a tale, of Ash and Blood as Herun foretold. Orithur, the Ashen one, pitted against Herun, the Blooded One.

 

Karlem, Orithur’s name ages past, arose from the tenebrous ashen waste that was once his frame, bound by magenta as he promptly exploded into a haze of caliginous ash, and as it eventually settled, Herun could be seen ignoring the words of his brethren and friends; the stoic man gripping Karlem’s immolated blade, his own, sheathed.

 

The sunlight eventually fades as the clouds amassed over the skies and the heavens wept, perhaps as a gesture of the empyreal above weeping for the loss of his intriguing Champion of Yore, ever so duly dubbed by the Prophet.

 

And so, we bid farewell to Karlem, otherwise known as Orithur, Champion of Yore, and more prominently known as the Librarian. Honour was gained during this insightful duel as Orithur had expressed, a duel, at his behest. May he lay at rest, forever, and always, with the Lord of Sunlight embracing his fragmented soul, greeted by his former brethren in the heavens above. To the ranks of the Order of the Golden Lance he returned.

 

 

One last prayer was uttered for the loss of Karlem struck Herun hard.

“So rest in peace, Karlem, true name of Orithur, may he forever lay in the warmth embrace of his once hailed Aengul, Xan, Lord of Sunlight, who plucked his soul from the earth and slipped it into the stream of yonder.”

 

As the days passed word got out of their honourable duel arranged at the behest of Orithur and his loss at the hands of Herun Athna.

[Ford 1996]

Bost only gave a respectful nod in response to Orithur's perishing, the Southeron's verdant eyes taking in the sight of the Librarian's ashen body, which began to steadily rise and disperse into the air above the dueling ring. Soon, the remnants would  have completely dissipated into nothingness.

 

"And life goes on."

[AGP 3169]

"Haha get dropped loser," comments Richard.

[justDEWit 133]

"In the end, Light always prevails."

 

An Ascended mutters to himself, allowing his holy flame to bounce from palm to palm.

 

[Mabah 156]

Aereis Raemonn puts his head down in respect to Orithur. "May he rest in peace." He pauses. "Depending on what Wraiths do." He mumbles to himself.

[BonesOfTheEarth 2252]

Lefkos remains silent, moving to a boat near the isle of Leona as the other Librarians prepared to sail out.

[Destroyer_Bravo 1054]

"Wait did you actually not get rolled over, okay then." says Lysio.

[winterblood 11181]

Nemir slowly shook her head as she made her way towards the ship near Leon with the other librarians.  A soft frown hinted at her lips.

[Lotoke 25]

Enedor gazes apon the faded structure of the Dragur Library "And so the eternal librarian is defeated" he whispers, before turning away,

[Corvoo 562]

A passing Hierophant would make his way to the Library, stopping outside of it near the lands he and his brethren healed not long ago, dipping his head in respect. "May he find peace, wherever he might be. And may his legacy live on through the halls of this Library, and the next."

[1 1393]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.