How Far Have I Fallen From My True Self?

[Kaelan 1918]

 

It had been many years since a young, purple eyed Mali had travelled through the frozen desert of Courland back in Vailor. His own breath mingled and mixed with that of his brother and sister as they made their way over mountains of snow, undisturbed since the day it had fallen.

 

It was clear to anyone who would have seen the trio pass by that they were not at all related by blood. For the youngest of them all, barely twenty five and yet wearing the uniform of the Sirame, had pale skin, vibrant violet eyes with a shine of youthful life to them, and clean orderly blond hair which the ‘Aheral had prided himself in. Drastically different to the ‘Ame who stood at his flanks.

 

They had travelled to these cold frozen lands at the beckoning of a ghost. Determined to find the body of a Mali who had hung himself in the forests that bordered the northern mountains.

 

Having completed the quest they were set on to honour the death of their fallen comrade who had served in the Sirame, they broke into a nearby manor to shelter themselves from the oncoming blizzard.

 

It was here advice retaining to love, service, and life were bombarded upon the ‘Aheral who did not yet meet the age requirement for the Sirame. He soaked it up like a dry sponge, eager to gather the wisdom and knowledge bestowed upon him by his elders.

 

“Never fall in love,” the older Chirr of the Sirame had warned him. “For it will break you.”

 

It was here many years later after that event the ‘Aheral reminisced upon those times as he watched his warm breath form a mist in the cold frozen air in front of him. How young, full of life, and innocent he had been. His once youthful eyes full of life had disappeared, replaced by a pair whose light was dulled and dead.

 

Life had taken a toll on him. Fate cruel and unkind to him. Like a pot made of clay, life seemed to feel the need to smash him into bits and grind the chunks into a fine powder underfoot.

 

Oh how far he was from his original self...

 

El’Chirr Aelthus Aureon; alchemist, enchanter, Sirame, murderer, interbreeder, father of a half-elf, monster.

 

“A monster,” He said aloud to no one but himself as he overlooked the forests below him from the tip of his mountain. “Quick to anger, quick to kill. For how far have I fallen from my true self?”

 

He had caused much pain as of late. He had planned and executed the death of El’Naeri Lin Torena of the Sirame, a brother in arms. He had laid with a half ‘Ame half Goblin woman and got her with child. Only to break her heart and trust later before the birth of the child. He had torn his seed apart with his violence. Quick to snap, Aelthus had brought terror to his seed and scattered knees of his brothers and sisters as he uttered threats to burn them and himself.

 

In all the darkness, he had one small beacon of light which he quickly grasped and held tightly to. His daughter Khiara was that beacon of hope. A small light in a sea of darkness, it kept him afloat, kept him from where he was now.

 

“He am dangerous,” a voice said aloud to the whole of his family who had gathered in the storage room. “He am not to be trusted.”

 

“He will have minimal contact with his daughter,” another spoke in a commanding tone.

 

It was this that had driven him to his mountain top.

 

His feet ached, his legs felt as if they were on fire from the long climb. His hands were numb and frozen around the vial that they carried. His face was frost bitten and his eyes almost frozen shut.

 

He dropped into the snow as he reached the top, remaining face down for quite sometime until he regained the last of his energy to straighten himself up.

 

He gave a soft sigh as he uncorked the glass vial in his right hand. He studied the amber content inside of which he was quite familiar with. Having used it to help the murder of Lin and ease himself into a restless sleep in which he was plagued by nightmares.

 

“All mortal beings fear death,” He repeated to himself, having spoken those words mere hours ago to his brother. “For when one thinks of death, the thought often washes over courage. It makes cowards of us all.”

 

He sat there for many moments, the amount of time lost as he sat unmoving on the top of the mountain. The harsh wind having little effect on the Mali as his violet eyes stared at the contents that would ease him into death.

 

“One last final sleep,” He whispered to himself. Upon those words, he raises the vial to his lips and drank greedily of the contents.

 

He gave a soft, relieved sigh as he lowered the glass vial. He could begin to feel the effects take place and he eased himself onto his back to stare up at the stars. The last thoughts that ran through his mind was of the daughter he would never be allowed to raise.

Soon his eyes grew heavy and everything faded to nothing. His heart stopped, his mind stilled, the blood in his veins frozen. He was gone, frozen solid in the Sirame uniform he had worn for more than half of his life.

[ThatWeirdGirl 432]

Meriel hummed quietly as she tended to her squirming infant. Her eyes were beginning to change colors, drifting away from their slate gray to a more blue tone. She pushed the tiny infant's wispy strands of hair from her face, murmuring,"Wonder where your maln ith..." She lisped, turning and going to her own makeshift bed.

 

Meanwhile, wherever aspectists go when they die, a grinning wood elven woman that smelled faintly of rotten eggs stood over Aelthus. "Heeey, ex-brother. Wake up." She squated down, prodding his cheek obnoxiously,"Waaake up. I have seven hundred thirty two pranks ready for you."

[sidmmvv 203]

    Leo stood within the manor lounge, thinking of the events that have unfolded. His wife now resting peacefully within the room where a slumbering child lay. He clutched tightly around his sisters staff, his eyes staring blankly forth out the window across from him. He lets loose a long and ragged breath and loses all hold he had on his emotions. His burnt and bandaged hand reaching up to cup his face as he broke down. The sound of muffled sobs filling the silent manor. Leo's knees began to fail him as he sunk to the floor, still gripping the staff as if it was the only thing that would save him. He sobbed for hours it seemed until his eyes could produce no more tears. He hated himself for the things he had done to his brother. Hated himself for pushing him to un-clip the vial from his belt that started it all last night. He hated himself for not saving his brother from his emotional downfall that he tried ever so desperately to do. He rose to his feet, shaking as he pondered on what he would say to his brother when he went down those steps to tell him once more that he loved him. As he made his way down the steps he leaned heavily upon his sisters staff. He approached the door that felt more like a barrier to his brother instead of a simple door. His hand drifted to the door knob clutching it tightly. Leo stood for hours hoping Aelthus would open the door before he did, but as he pushed his mind to turn the handle, his body pulled away. He looked to the door for a long moment before finally rasping out in a weak and horse voice, "I. . .I will come to you in due time. . .just don't leave me before then aye?" He then turned on heel and started off to his room, a faint smile upon his lip knowing that his brother would be there when he awoke.

[Eandyil 92]

In time, a younger Sirame would come looking for his friend, the man whom had inducted him into the Sirame all too recently. Though no simple youth anymore, the younger man was no stranger to harsh climates. Since the destruction of The Sword Invictus, since the war for Polaris, Eandyil had traveled the lands, looking for a place he could truly consider home. Aelthus had shown the silly Ean that home had been among his people, waiting for him the entire time. He learned to properly wield a sword and shield, no longer relying exclusively on his bow. He learned to have fun again. He even found another to share his fears, his hopes, his joys with...all because the El'Chirr of the Sirame saw fit to speak to a bored, lonely young man trying to find his place in the world.

 

It was no surprise that Eandyil, formerly Nathar though now of Torena, joined a small expedition to find his friend, to bring him home. It was with regret that he couldn't bring home a live, happy friend, or even the frozen corpse left to the elements. He wouldn't let it break him, his friend wouldn't have wanted that, but his heart was heavy. With Shanyeld, his constant companion these days, and a few other friends of the missing man, he finally had to give up the search for Aelthus, El'Chirr of the Sirame. The elf new sorrow, unashamedly mourning his missing friend, but hoping against hope that he might live. Someday, perhaps they would find him. Find him or no, the young Torena hoped that his friend would at last know some measure of peace.

[Drop Koala 332]

A huff escaped the bear like Mali's mouth as he heard that Aelthus had not been seen for a while and that people had feared for his death. He would have had shown little emotion as he was told this, though deep inside a feeling of sadness and anger brewed inside of him, he also didn't know that they had started making their own memes.

[Sander 3312]

As he heard the news about Aelthus probably being dead Saendir was shocked. He hadn't known the mali for very long, though he felt a very strong connection with him. They were only formally brothers and not of blood, but to Saendir it did feel so. After having heard the news Saendir wanted to be alone, sad and even depressed of the terrible loss.
He went outside the manor to sit down on a bench by the fire. He sat there for some hours with his head in his hands, sobbing, mourning about the person he had come to love so much but had now lost. "Poor Aelthus" he cried, "why did he have to die so soon, at such young age, with such a life in front of him". He looked down to the ground, tears rolling over his face, as he was pushing around a pebble with his foot. "Why did he have to kill himself, oh why dear aspects!" He cried to the sky and the trees above while saying this. "Why did they have to screw things up so bad for poor Meri and him..." He sighed with his voice trembling. "Oh if only he still was here with us, I wouldn't even mind him being so foolish.... Why just why did he have to take his life...." After having sat there for another hour, pondering about the events that had happened, he stood up walking back inside the manor. He walked downstairs to look at his brother's room. He didn't know why he was looking there but he felt almost as if he hoped to just see him sit there. Ofcourse he wasn't there. After that Saendir went outside again. Laying in the field behind the manor, he continued sobbing looking up to the stars. "Why isn't he looking up to those same stars and moon anymore... I would do everything in the whole wide world to just have him be looking up to those stars if only once more....." After that the poor depressed 'ame fell to a deep sleep.....

[Your Favorite Impure 736]

          Aenor's lips would continually be anchored into a frown for a few hours, his mind wandering upon hearing the news of Aelthus' passing as he sits within his study. Admittedly, at first, his thoughts went to who would be the next to replace Aelthus as Chirr, though he soon shook his head, almost ashamed that's what first came to mind. A soft exhale soon breezes past the grizzled elf's lips, Aenor rubbing at his nose with a disgruntled expression as his thoughts shift "Aye, he committed a heinous crime, an officer of the Sirame, no less. Yet," Aenor's gaze would pan over to the nearby window, the first rays of the sun just beginning to peak over the verdant treetops "Is this really a fitting punishment?" Aenor would remain silent, simply observing the sky as it continually became a tinge of pink, and then a hue of orange.

         Aenor's scarred lips would suddenly meld into a faint smirk, the memory of a young, puppy-eyed Aheral wishing to join the Sirame in Vailor coming to mind "You had such promise, kae'llir."  He would think to himself, rising from his seat to pace over to the window. His gaze pans down to the forest floor, as the early risers of the city begin their days, meandering about to and fro. After a good while, Aenor swivels on his heels, beginning to stride out of his abode and down to the lower levels of the city, beginning his own schedule. A final, single thought would pass his mind on the matter "You served well, Aelthus Aureon. May Cerridwen find use for remains, and may you hunt eternally with the Horned Man." 

[JEEGK 1367]

As word traveled to Berr, he simply offered his condolences to no one, his job had almost been finished with this family, "You were one of my favorites, and there were only two of you..." he sighed, going to his room and slamming his hammer back upon his ferrum that rested atop, "Anger shall drive my motives..."

[Skylez 870]

Elsiln, a previous Sirame, now known as Morka'Vorgor would have mixed emotions when he finally hears the news. "He wahz ahn hozh soldiur" The honorary remarks, a slight frown upon his features. "Mi ez glahd he ehz flat, deaft tu dha inturbreehdurz" Morka adds after some time, anger now present upon his face.

[spqrSancus 175]

And so too fell Asul, in a strange way and form. Aelthus' death, one whom had treated him like a brother, one whom invited him into his new family's ranks, had fallen so soon.

 

"You fool... I should have done more. I knew that you couldn't live without her. I should have argued with the chieftain some more."

[LadyRebecca 1050]

 

She had danced with him. It was the only thing Ara could bring her mind back to. That one, happy day in the middle of all the chaos and upheaval the Aureon household had been through these past years. When a young Sirame officer had teased Aelthus about not knowing how to dance, the purple eye’d mali’aheral had come to her and asked if she would teach him. It was marvelous. While neither of the pair could properly place their footing and each were stepping on the other’s toes, they had laughed and poked easy fun at the other.

 

Releasing a shuddering sigh, the tired, forlorn expression of a mali’ame looks out the dining room window, peering at nothing in particular. The druid reaches her slender fingers up to push her long, dark brown hair away from her face before sliding her other arm down to rest on her lower stomach, fingers idly running up and down over the warm surface of her dress. As she shifts her eyes downwards, she whispers softly,

“You would have loved him. And he would have loved you. But he will be happy to know that I will watch over his oem’ii, the same as I will watch over you, my sweet.”

[flameslinger2002 49]

As Aelthus drinks the vial Soul looks on from the afterlife. "We will see each other soon my brother in arms, soon." Soul's spirit just continues to look on at Aelthus laying there dead.

[_Owen 47]

The Ame stands at the foot of the grave of  Aelthus after his departed. he huff's with a quiver in his voice "You would have made a good Son in law" He chuckles to himself. The Ame kneels down over the ground and rest down a pot of lavender "I shall be watching, as you shall be watching your oe'mii from where ever you are"  The Ame sighs his shoulders slumping down "A dark period had casted the shadow over your shoulders Aelthus but no more is the weight being burred on your shoulder" He would crack a small smile his hand patting the ground "You lived a good live but no its time for you to rest and be at peace, farewell friend" The Ame pushes himself to his feet and walks away his forest green cloak swaying in the wind as his smell of lavender fills the air subtly 

[Wendigo 786]

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