Long Darkness

[Wand 1220]

Long shadows cast gloom across the somber ruins of Endmoor. The Vaeyl Order here had waited, patient to speak with the sovereign of all Elves. Their purpose here was not diplomacy, but to deliver an ultimatum and demand an answer. Instead, six elves arrived to meet with them. None of them bore the armor of any known enclave, city or grove of elves. Their races, mixed, but they were united in purpose, and they would hear what the Lord-General had to say.

 

Such news, such absence of a single elven monarch, troubled and annoyed the Vaeyl commander to the suspicion of her guests, but she would not wait longer. Their discussions stretched into a new day. The air itself was burdened by the exhaustion of both parties and the grim implications which Serris bade them part with, but in the mind of one elf, a certain conversation still rang clear, and deeply troubled him. All he had done was speak, honestly as ever, of what each elven group was apt to do, how they would respond to her.

 

“Why do you stay, then?”

 

It had struck Fëanor Sylvaeri briefly silent. He was no stranger to this question. It was on the minds of Caras Eldar citizens, his family, and members of other elven enclaves. It was a question, a judgement of dedication to a cause, and it had been spoken with such care and almost sorrow. It was a question he thought at least he could resolve by abdication. It was a question unexpected from Serris, of all people, and for a moment, he wondered who, or what Serris addressed so softly.

 

"I cannot speak for those at my sides. I too have already published reasons I cannot stay in Caras Eldar. It is one thing to take up arms for a just cause, but it is another to fight in a war between kin. Perhaps against my better judgement. I love them all. I cannot help it, when they have given me a home. It is not.. uncommon to love something against your better judgement.”

 

“Atlas. Why is it you stay here?!”

 

Pain, anguish, anger. He knew it well. The elf had developed a sense for these things. His answer, the answers of the others, lead to one thought: where would they go? This did not satisfy Serris, but it did begin to draw their talks to a close.

 

“You found this land. You can find another. You know that if you do not flee this land, it will become your tomb.”

 

“That, we are all aware. There is always more land, other shores. In the coming years, we may depart, be it by land or sea, but all of us will depart. And on that day perhaps the Sons of Horen, Krug, and Urguan may follow.”

 

“Will you say the same?” A pause. “When the blizzards rob the sun from the sky, of the food from your table? When your children grow cold and hungry?”

 

They descended into accusations. The innocents, in the eyes of the elves, were invaders upon Vaeyl land, that ought submit to their Order or be slain, as Descendants too had slain their own people. Serris would do anything to save her home, Atlas, even if it involved more blood, Descendant or not. Her sword, eventually lowered.

 

“I have heard your answer, Malinyr. If you are too young to heed our mercy, then so be it.”

 

 "Some would rather die than be subjugated. The rest.. smart enough to begin leaving," the Sylvaeri remarks. "We will see in the coming months how much the other peoples will sacrifice. I do believe, however, we have overstayed this invitation, Serris of Deep Harbor, unless there is more."

 

"I will offer you one last warning; perhaps that will prompt you to flee at last. There will be no harvest for you this year. Or the years that follow. When our blizzard comes north to cripple the Horenyr, it will come for you too."

 

 

Atlas. All Elven settlements and allies. I impart you only with this warning.

 

The Vaeyl Order under Lord-General Serrimor of Deep Harbour will see Atlas subjugated under the Order’s rule, or otherwise extinguished. There is no further compromise, only awaiting the blizzard which follows. Once the blizzard travels northwards, beyond Southern lands, it shall proceed north, choke out the sun with its clouds and make our fields, our crop-fields barren.

 

There is no peace, no hope of mutual cooperation. Should Darkness find our peoples, we must be prepared to depart these lands, or else prepare to die upon them.

 

F.S.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Chase 3793]

Evar'tir retired to Talareh a while after the meeting in the Endmoor ruins. He sat at his desk, flipping through books, missives, old parchments, and prints idly, though he wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for. The Lord-General's words echoed in the back of his mind.

 

"Why do you stay?"

 

He wasn't exactly his honest answer to that question, but his mind went to other places as he found a map of the Yatl Wastes. Taking out a letter, the 'Ker started to cross reference between the two.

 

Although it was just one sentence, Serris' question would ring in the back of his mind for quite the time to come. But when the time came, he would have an answer.

[Man of Respect 5471]

DALEK KASTROVAT READS THROUGH AND LOOKS AT THE SIGNATURE.

 

“WHAT’S F. S.”

 

and drops his signature

D.K.

 

 

[osumanduas 1442]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it.