Bvie 1754 Popular Post Share Posted August 22, 2016 The howling of the wind over the white capped mountains . The chill that ran up her spine from the cold. The crunching of the snow beneath her feet. The darkness of a cave entrance in the frozen North. Two icey blue eyes, calling to her, luring her in. She sits upright with a gasp, the darkness of her bedroom replacing the frozen landscape. Where tall ominous mountains once stood, simply bookcases containing stories and numbers. The white snow that her feet had sunk into was now her sheets and blankets. She ran a hand over her forehead and through her light brown hair, the sweat forming on her head coating her palm in the process. She pulls her legs towards her, pushing her back against the headboard of her large bed -a bed obviously meant for two-, and wraps her arms around her thin legs. The room quiet except for the gentle snoring of a tall Elf slumped in the corner of the bedroom. His armor piled next to him with his helmet between him and the wall, used as a horrible pillow. His never ending presence and watchful eye these days a reassurance, but also a constant reminder. As her breathing calmed down she laid back in the bed on one side and curled inward, taking the form of how a young child would sleep, scared of letting any appendage getting too near the edges of the bed for they may be snatched by what lurks below the bed. But she knew all too well that there were no monsters under her bed, for the monsters appear before her every day as memories. ~ The morning's sun brought light into the bedroom, but little warmth. Her sleep shallow and uncomfortable, a reoccurance since that day, and often interrupted by the calling of an old women's voice with icy eyes in the frozen mountains, calling for her to come. Her bodyguard stands now by the door, watching her awaken. The corner he slept in cleaned up, as if to hide his weakness for sleep and rest from her, and his armor placed on his being, ready to be the pillar of support she needed. He opens the doors as her assistants quickly flood the room. The splashing of water into a basin, the pulling of knots from her hair, the shuffling of clothing, and the pinning of a shell into her hair, all symbolized the transformation of a once simple farm girl with dreams of owning a windmill into Sutica's leader and protector. A grunt from her guard signals the handmaidens to scamper out of the room, quickly picking up their supplies and accessories, leaving her sitting in a chair as she stares out the window into nothingness. Heavy foot steps would echo throughout the room. "Ready?" A soft voice, a broken voice, would echo out from her as she stares out the window. "Can I ever truly be ready for this?" No verbal response is given. Only the cold touch of metal on her bare shoulder as a hand rests upon it silently. ~ The city's streets were unusually barren. Although the city officials paced behind her, their footsteps were eerily silent. Only the clicking of her heels on the stone steps echoing throughout the city as she walked on, her face to the ground and her hands clasped against her body. Her black dress against the white pillars of the peaceful city, a nonconformity to its usual bright and cheery self. But this sight of her had become more common, since that day. The clicking of heels stops, as does the parade of officials, as they round a corner to the center of town. A large fire burned in the center plaza, and even though the sun was overhead, the fire's light seemed to illuminate the dark space more than the sun itself. Two masses of people sat on either side of an open walkway, leading up to the large fire. People from various homelands, from various histories, and with various names all stood in place. Elves, Humans, Dwarves, Orcs, Kha, even the few Halfling that stood towards the front to be able to see, all stood silently in the plaza. The mixture would be one of questionable circumstances if not for that day, their support being given to the Princess and for the honor of the Lord Protector. ~ She sat in front of the burning fire, her eyes staring into its brilliance, but her eyes not reflecting its light. When she should be basking in its warmth, her heart felt solid and cold, like a lump of ice. Her thoughts drifted towards the frozen peaks once more, to the shadowy woman figure with icy blue eyes that called to her to join her. She could sense others around her physical being back in the plaza, stepping up to the box and kneeling before it. She could sense their approach to her, a hand placed on her shoulder, a gift or blessing offered, a comforting kiss on her cheek, a word of worry. But her frame remained still and staring at the flames as thanks were given to the individual by her nearby officials and sent on their way, as her mind slowly stepped through the snow, working her way towards the dark cave and the promises of freedom from grief that laid waiting inside. "It's time." ~ The fire's strength had dwindled, now nothing but smoldering ash and the light trail of smoke disappearing into the darkening dusky sky. Her arm is taken to help support her as she stands and is led towards the fire's base, the box remaining open. But she shakes her head and tries to turn away. Words are exchanged and her arm is released as she turns fully from the scene as the box is closed. Grunts and groans are heard behind her as her heels begin to click on the stone once more. The officials footsteps much louder now as the box sits on their shoulders, all except a dwarf who stands on tippy toes, trying to at least keep his hands on the raised box. The sun sets over the icy mountains in the North as their destination is reached. Her heels silence as she steps onto the green grass, its coolness reaching and wrapping around her feet in a sort of gesture of comfort, while her guard grasps the heavy iron door and tugs it open with a grunt. The officials walked past her her, carrying the box into the darkness. From within, final words are exchanged between them and the box before they exit and depart back to their duties. With a deep breath of fresh air, she steps from the comforting grass and into the damp darkness. Her guard follows inside and closes the door with a clang behind them. ~ The torch lights cast shadows across the room that danced as if alive, creating an uneasy feeling for such a place. However her vision remained down as she stood in front of the box. She tried to disassociate herself with the scenario, to push her mind elsewhere, to the frozen mountains that called for her, louder now than ever before as she stood there. But for this one time, she felt restrained, forced to remain in her body. Once only one voice called to her, luring her to the cold, but now, a second called to her to keep her steady. A voice called for her to remain, to feel, to grieve. Her vision looked up from the floor and to the box in front of her. It was made out of the finest of woods, properly treated and prepared to last for all of times. Her hands ran over the cover, feeling the indentations of the craftsmen's work. Images of a seascape decorated the lower half with a sea serpent breaking in the waves, while tree branches decorated the sides and top with birds of varying types sat upon them. She smiled as tears ran down her face, noticing that not a single finch was displayed. But in the center of the cover flew two beautiful birds, their wings touching as if holding hands, into a beautiful sunset. ~ The voice calls to her once more, but now the second voice overpowers it easily. The distant womanly voice of the North becomes a fading shadow as the memory of a man's fills her mind. Her hands slip to the edge of the lid and lifts slowly until it is fully open. Her eyes look down from the inside of the lid until falling onto the box's contents. The messy black hair, the red robes, and light skin looked up at her, still and silent. Her eyes ran like little rivers, for days after she had heard the news they ran to the point that her eyes would dry out and burn. But today, But now, she didn't care about the pain. Her body willed her this moment, forcing tears to well into her eyes and down her cheeks. For when she looked upon him now, she only saw the memories. Of a man that wore a rusty helmet that was two sizes to big for his head, often falling into his face and blocking his vision. Of a man that to help her sell goods and handing her a 15 page proposal on how to become a successful trading company. Of a man that she was warned to not trust, warned to not help, but decided to give a chance. Of a man that would polish the pillars in the city. Of a man that would count the carpets of her throne room. Of a man that 'accidentally' spilled a bucket of cow manure on a suitor. Of a man that told her how he had never had a hug before, and her giving him his first. Of a man that asked her to spend the day with him lost in a maze to celebrate Lover's Day, as she did not have one. Of a man that listened to her story, the first time she had opened up to anyone. Of a man that defended her honor, delivering her the right arm of an abusive man of her past. Of a man that helped her sign a treaty to protect her people, when she could barely read. Of a man that knew of her dreams and wishes, no matter how grand they were, and tried to make them a reality. Of a man that helped her tear down a city they had built and board boats for Elven months. Of a man that erected tents he had bought in their new home. Of a man that fought with her about said tents. Of a man that tore down said tents. Of a man that rebuilt new tents by hand. Of a man that built her an igloo as she tended to cattle in the dead of winter. Of a man that built her a bed in the pasture after passing out from work. Of a man that stood beside her when others turned against her. Of a man that forgave her when she hurt him. Of a man that shared his heart, a ring, and a promise. Of a man that loved babalouche and yaks milk. Of a man that left her for years in search of birds. Of a man that broke his promise to her. Of a man that took her aside and asked her what she wanted. Of a man that realized his actions and made a new promise. Of a man that filled her with hope and a child. Of a man that didn't look upon her with hate and malice, but love when she lost said child. Of a man that looked upon her with admiration and love as she fought alongside him against Orgon. Of a man that held her hand as they traversed the wilds of Axios. Of a man that did everything in his power to make her happy. Of a man that chose her over his country. Of a man that she loved. Her tears would drip from her chin as she laid hunched over the coffin's edge and onto his red robes. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, So many things she wanted to say. Her heart hurt, wishing to just hear his voice complain about finches once more. Her own mind, her own beliefs, her own feelings would turn and tumble inside of her, questioning the world for this to have happened. To question how they could brave wars, sea monsters, the ending of a world, and still come to this? But she knew her questions would never be answered, she knew that things in life rarely made sense. She placed her hands on the coffins edge and pushed herself up to look down at his face once more. The torch's light illuminating his features, showing some she had never even realized were there until now. She thought of the irony of the moment, that in such a time one notices the slight bend of one's nose or the lightening of skin's pigment in a certain spot of his face. The little things we miss, she mused. Her hand slides down to his hair, now dry as if straw. She patted his head and blinked her eyes heavily, tears dropping down onto his collar. "Goodbye." She slowly closes the coffins lid, the wooden thud causing her to collapse over it as she wailed. Her hands sliding over the decorations, the flying birds, the sea serpent, the expert craftsmanship. She felt two strong hands, hands that could easily force her to move, lightly hold her and urge her away from the coffin. ~ The clanging of the iron door echoed in her mind as she sat in bed that night. A tray of bablouche and yaksmilk, sat on the nightstand. Two plates originally sat full, now only one remained full while the other scraped clean and the utensils sitting cross against the empty plate. She looked over to her guard who stood in his corner, ever present, ever watching her these days. She laid her head down upon the pillows on her side of the bed and pulled the blanket up around her. Her gaze looked to his side, empty and untouched. With a final sigh she closed her eyes and faded off to sleep. Her sleep was soundless that night, the first night since that day. The day where her world fell apart when she was told her husband was killed. The day where her grief finally became too much for her and she lost herself. The day where she felt alone and broken. No longer were the voices of the frozen mountains reaching out to her, instead his voice filled her dreams, her memories. Her guard shifted slightly in the corner of the room, trying to remain quiet as he removed his helmet. He let loose a sigh, one he had been holding in all day, along with a tear he had hidden until now, a moment where he could express himself in solitude. He looked upon the suffering girl and wiped at his eyes before replacing his helmet and becoming still once more as he watched her sleep. As the moon hung high in the nights sky. As the lights in the homes slowly dimmed as life returned normal. And as the torch lights in the crypt slowly burnt out, letting darkness swallow up the nameplate beneath the coffin that read "Mylas 'Careful Brave Safe' La Terre Amant Carrington" "Broken but repairable." Spoiler (So, this was extremely hard to write. Not only because of the OOC circumstances that forced this to happen, but because of the connection Lily had with Mylas. It has been an amazing time RPing them, both being ditzy and unsure of each other, each trying to better their home, but both warming up to each other. It was amazing. It was fun. It was hilarious. It was frustrating. It was, in a sense real. It was great keeping this relationship entirely RP and on the server, letting the RP dictate everything was well worth it. But, the other reason that it was hard to write this, is because of you Mylas/Chumpchump/Toby. So many people told me things about you. Such horrible, negative things. But one friend said differently and told me to give you a chance. (Thank you Billy, for doing this. For being the voice that told me to give him a chance.) Toby...I don't know where Sutica would be without you. I don't know where I would be, honestly. There were so many days where I didn't want to log in, but the change of having you count the carpets, or tell me some strange story, it made me want to log in. You secretly helped me get over rough times with your personality, your charisma, and your shennaigans. How you'd do random things to make me laugh when you knew I was stressed. How you'd do what you could to help me out, though sometimes it backfired! How we both laughed at how awkward FTB was and how to do it. How you searched for IRL days trying to find me and refused to meta-game my location. You helped me achieve things on the server that I never thought capable of. You've touched so many people in town, and done the same for them, that you don't realize. I know there's always Skype, but it was hard writing this because of how little we talked off of the server, this felt like I was really losing you and saying goodbye to you. I can only hope that you remain the person you've shown to me and to Sutica. I know you have some things coming up in the next few months that are keeping you busy, so I wish you the best in them and in everything you do. If you should come back, and I'm around, I look forward to RPing with you again. With lots of love and thanks, The Sutica Crew & Lily/Squirt 31 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wulfric 472 Share Posted August 22, 2016 Great now i will be less lonely in the crypt Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
atles 100 Share Posted August 22, 2016 R.I.P Mylas! Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Salvo 1852 Share Posted August 22, 2016 ((doesnt change the fact that he duped)) Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
bungo 3965 Share Posted August 22, 2016 This is what true love looks like. 2 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Naj 545 Share Posted August 22, 2016 ((RIP Sutica)) Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Arteh 1837 Share Posted August 22, 2016 @Hunwald This is what Bruno Buron needs to invoke in the hearts of Women to find a wife. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
AGP 3169 Share Posted August 22, 2016 Richard sheds a rare genuine tear for his beloved Mylas. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
big narstie 1701 Share Posted August 22, 2016 19 minutes ago, Salvo said: ((doesnt change the fact that he duped)) ah'll hefty snap you says Ser Leslie Mackerel Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
ARCHITECUS 4788 Share Posted August 22, 2016 A lone man under cloak and hood shuffles his way through a sleepy plain with a practiced lack of urgency. He had not done this in a very long time, and never with this purpose. A crypt entrance comes in to view, and the man's hood lifts to afford him a peek at it. Coin always greased palms in his life, but never with this purpose. The door swings open, and the man stows away a surrogate key. He had always been where he shouldn't, but never with this purpose. That coffin fills up the man's vision, and his step slows, his head dips; his mantle slouches. Tim of Locklear gingerly sets a bundle of wildflowers on his mentor's resting place. This was the man who brought a thin bearded Tim out of vagrancy, and who had taught Tim the secrets of the merchant trade. Timothy of Locklear's eyes gain a rainy mien as he stares at his friend's coffin. Mylas had been his friend and amazing business partner in Felsen, which blossomed under the tender care of this mayor. His Grace Timothy Locklear of Killeen turns and quits the place, leaving his mentor, friend, and sometime enemy behind forever. But Mylas would remain in his thoughts, blissful and sad alike. 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Thatpyrodude 2008 Share Posted August 22, 2016 "Eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, I'm the last mayor standing." Says Bradshaw Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Kvasir 1121 Share Posted August 22, 2016 1 hour ago, atles said: R.I.P Mylas! "What is a R.I.P?" An Augur would ask. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Anderssn 1115 Share Posted August 22, 2016 1 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
mitch dharma 438 Share Posted August 23, 2016 Wow. Even though I had asolutely no connection to either you or Mylas in RP - or OOC for that matter - there was really something authentic and real about this writing which I've never seen before on this server or roleplay forum or any kind. Big respect to you, actually got me feeling sad. Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Bvie 1754 Author Share Posted August 23, 2016 3 minutes ago, Piglet said: Wow. Even though I had asolutely no connection to either you or Mylas in RP - or OOC for that matter - there was really something authentic and real about this writing which I've never seen before on this server or roleplay forum or any kind. Big respect to you, actually got me feeling sad. Thanks. I made a real friend through this RP. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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