Jump to content

Recommended Posts

The sight hurt.

 

Jarsek Myrsta, upon finding his homeland destroyed and full of damaging magic, was not pleased to find his home in such a state. He blamed September for destroying such a beautiful place while he was away and himself for not being here to defend it.

 

Sometimes, it is enough to find hatred in destruction.

 

He was a pure high elf in every sense of the word, but even he had his faults. No one was immune to emotions running rampant and this included Jarsek. His own emotions were not like most high elves, but this would prove to either be his greatest strength or his weakness. Jarsek felt no pain or sorrow once he looked upon Haelun’or, but rather he felt something else. Something that was beginning to add fuel to a bonfire that would last for the rest of his life.

 

Cursed or soulless? No one knew. Not those left to see the day as this was my own challenge to overcome.

 

He hated the fact that his grandson had been an impurity in his own house. The news of his death did greatly satisfy him, but it was not enough. He wanted to rid his grandson from the history books and make it to where he never existed in the first place. This kind of task would require a great cost, but it was one he was willing to pay.

 

Even in death, his impurity rots. In life, I thought he would grow up to be a scholar working in the Eternal Library, his unyielding curiosity granting us more knowledge. No, this was not to be.

 

After seeing his home destroyed, he came across a fellow high elf. One that even he thought seemed a bit suspicious. This high elf had told him that his name was Illiran Drennan, but he had never heard of such a name before. Even on his journeys abroad, he never once heard of such a house. It was at this moment that Jarsek decided to investigate this house through Illiran, but the risk of having this trust broken was too great at the time. No, he would slowly gain this elf’s trust and try to learn more, though this would also take its time.

 

No greater shame exists than having someone in your own house be impure. Yet, this was something that could be inferred as irony. My grandson was impure and my own impurity stem from the blood on my hands. I took no joy or pity when I fought in battle, but felt nothing at all. This was something that no magic in the world could do to me as I was born with the ability to wield my emotions like a two-edged sword. It was what made me a good warrior, but it can also make me a monster.

 

After talking to Illiran, Jarsek left the site of his old home and journeyed back to the Kadarsi, a cold darkness in his gaze as if he had shut himself from his own emotions. He didn’t know fear or loss, but he did know anger, fury, and rage. This could prove to be his downfall as the sight of his homeland did affect him, but not in the normal ways that a blighted land did.

 

No, he was a blighted phoenix...

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Evar'tir looks over a Csarathaire banner, flown proudly within Talareh'sae, in remembrance to a true Phoenix.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.



×