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iMattyz

No King But Malin

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A declaration in the form of a pamphlet arrives at the various royal and elected courts of Arcas, stamped both with the sigil of its author - that of a dark red phoenix, and that of the state which he represented - that of the Elven nation of Alderyn.

 


 

It was hubris which descended like a vile fog among the old Dominion of Malin, in its golden age, a fog which clouded the vision we ought to have possessed of our own nature. Since the sundering of our Father’s people, we have known no mortal king on a mortal throne. Or, I should say we had not known one until the curse of hubris spread like a plague among us. Our capital city of Caras Eldar thronged with the laughter, chatter and commerce of a multitude of Mali’ker, ‘aheral, ‘ame and even ‘fenn. Our armies were stronger than they had been ever before - fighting and crushing the invaders who might threaten our lands. Our people understood the crucial difference between the force of arms and the force of words, two brotherly aspects naturally together in a nation, but easily split apart.

 

I, Khaine Csarathaire was there when it happened - the pronouncement of the ‘Mortal King’ Kairn Ithelanen. What drove our minds to that madness, and mine in particular I cannot rightly say, but as one of the survivors from that moment in our people’s golden age I can say that it was the moment that our nation descended from that of a blossoming flower to a rotting, decayed husk. It was for our hubris and arrogance that Malin punished us with division, strife and separation. We believed ourselves greater than he who we had revered since our people’s beginning, and it inevitably caused our destruction. Before we ventured to the lands of Arcas, to look upon Caras Eldar - that once great city, and the cleaved state of our people was enough to shatter the heart of any of Malin’s sons. To me, memories of that time are enough to bring immense regret, and melancholy. Gradually as time progressed, I began to realise the horror of what he had done, and sought to remedy it. It is this fact which now gives me pride and honour as the conveyer of a long-awaited message on behalf of my people and government.

 

From this moment forth, the mortal monarchy established by Kairn Ithelanen is abolished and cast to the winds of history as a lesson for all Malin’s scions. Let all hear the admission that it was not the ‘weakness’ of the Dominion’s government which led to its collapse, but the hubris of autocratic rule which invaded our minds back in that glorious age.

 

The peoples of Alderyn will henceforth attempt to repair the damage done during this dark period, and to once again come to a consensus for the succession of our rulers - hoping to only appoint the most qualified and appropriate person to the role.

 

No King But Malin.

 


 

 

    Right Hand of Alderyn, Khaine Csarathaire

 

Empyreal Princess Layla Atraedes

        Left Hand of Alderyn, Rivaldir Ithelanen

        High Steward Lyaria Ithelanen

        Chancellor Artanis Sa’roir Caerme’onn

        High Justiciar Evar’tir Ithelanen

       

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Guyden Aureon caught wind of the declaration, planting his amber-crowned staff into the earth and bending a knee. A heavy sigh escapes their lungs. “Marayla! Thank the forefathers it is no more. That at last the memories of sacrilege can be put to rest. When the first Mortal Ac’oem ate the fruits of their hubris, the drunken haze that followed seemed unending. Whether a beast born of nature, philosophy or otherwise, none can escape a fate bound to them from the very beginning, however. Grand Cycle or not. Many blessings unto Irrin Sirame, the Watcher of the Wilds, and the Ah’oem: Malin." His hands clap thrice in succession, attire jangling as he stood back up. Briskly navigating the path with a newfound chip in his step.

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“All-Father watch over us. There are no kings, only his sons and daughters of broken peoples. I am glad they are no longer placing the blame solely on the Dominion. It has it’s fools, no doubt, but were it not for the Dominion’s creation there would have been no progress for the elves as a whole at all.” The shaman sighed adjusted himself as he sat in the sands, the sea breeze whipping his mane of hair around his face. 

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An ageing elven druid, having fallen into self-imposed seclusion and isolation, still happened upon the Csarathaire’s notice; such words pushing solemn reflection upon her. That day that had her eyes open to the festering gluttony of power among the elven populace was the same that finally took her to retreat to the wilds – a place of solace from the despairs of greed-borne infighting. It was unfortunate that she too was corrupted by it for a time; and it consumed her. Greed to eventual envy, translated to hatred. Though in the end, these feelings were discarded. Instead, she longs for the day that such a golden age returns without the same mistakes.

 

“No king but Malin.” She uttered the phrase while finally seeking to return from her self-imposed exile.

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Azoth smiles softly as he reads the missive. "Hubris. I could not have used a better word to describe it."

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Lyaria Ithelanen stands silently at Layla’s side as always, her expression dull and still – giving no hint to her thoughts. As she reads through the missive for perhaps the hundredth time, a habit she’d developed from reading through the drafts of each missive released, she turned to the Princess and offered a single nod.

 

“It is all we can do to correct the mistakes our kin made in the past. Our people have always been right – we need to continue to listen to them. Perhaps then all of us may rejoice in festivities and celebration, regardless of the city we hail from”

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Posted (edited)

Csaba shook his head. “Call it whatever you want, imitating mankind’s feudalism will bring you nothing but mankind’s corruption, decadence, and bloody familial infighting. Give up the crown, and the throne, and the title of ‘prince’ that destroyed old Malinor, or face the fate that you are so desperately trying to avoid – that of a nameless petty fiefdom lost in the annals of history.” 

Edited by xxx

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8 hours ago, iMattyz said:

and even ‘fenn. Our armies were stronger than they had been ever before - fighting and crushing the invaders who might threaten our lands.

Aelthir chortles upon reading these two phrases in particular, tossing the missive into the fire nearby. “Hubris.”

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Abbas Kharadeen would raise a brow as he read the letter not really finishing the second paragraph “Hm, I wonder why we got this.” he then handed it to a Mamluk “uh...go set it at ct? I see it is of elves....and...” ear he tried to contain his laughter as one of the new recruits decided to check the mamluk  and the others’s ears “Like our brother here is confused about, that, Hope they do well inshallah.” as some laughed at the new recruit, a janissary slapped the recruit on the back of the head a bit shaking his head with a grinning as more laughter from the scene, Abbas raising his hand so they could go back to their court session 

((sorry the letters were so small, but i read most of it, good luck cheif

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