The Last Master Sage [Elvira PK]

[Luxury 1085]

The news found Eliza nestled amidst the glittering spires of Haelun’or. The aged Mali’aheral allowed herself to ease into a bout of contemplative silence, calling to memory her time with the Ascended.

 

“Another one to the maelstrom.”

She sighed, cured nails securing a nearby teacup to sip from.

“If reality were a river, Elvira braved it’s rapids.”

[Safryie 275]

Upon hearing the news, Mhel looks contemplatively up at the moon, interlocking her hands she offers up a prayer in hopes that it may somehow reach the fallen Ascended ”Elvira, my enemy and my friend, our little conflict is what helped me to grow and mature as a person you taught me so much without realising it. I just wish we could have spent more time as friends. When my time comes I can only hope to meet you one last time on my way to Xan’s realm.” And so she sat there in silence staring up at the starry sky illuminated by the full moon for several hours more.

[TheTri 384]

Hiren read his letter a few times over before, like all of his belongings, it would miraculously disappear into thin air,.

However, rather than joining the rest of his seemingly endless collection, the letter would be organized into a special “cabinet”-- one in which only the most important things were kept.

 

”Although I refuse to be tricked by her motives, I do hope that the Archaengul continues to guide you.”

[Zacho 2177]

A tall man that once wore the tag of Ascended stood out in the wilds. He’d wandered for a long time, examining each and every building carefully that hung just barely together. Soon, through one source or another, he’d hear of the passing and simply sigh. It seemed like ages since he last truly looked at himself but as he stare at a pond it was evident that things wore on him, even on top of the magical facade he wore nearly always. His eyes were soured by the bags under them, his body felt more fragile even in his permanence. He’d speak into the water, as if he could see Elvira in the waters. 
“We once stood together, against the ever constant battle of the dark. We fought together, we argued, and we worked. “

He’d move around the pool, letting out a sigh as he began to walk off, only turning back to stare into the waters and speak once more
“But most of all, we were siblings of Aeriel, and that we shall always be. Rest easy, Elvira.”

He’d sigh, wandering off into the wilds to think over this torturous world he was cursed to live in...

 

Spoiler

OOC |

Its been an absolute pleasure knowing you, Farryn. From the time of Elvi and Dael as clerics and Ascended to all the way back in Athera with you and Jistuma running the bar in CT and teaching Gredge some alchemy. Its been an absolute blast throughout the years of getting to interact with Elvira as a character. Another thing is this art, its fantastic and will remain a stable for years. Ill always remember the times!

 

 

[Andustar 4143]

 

It was hard enough, reading the letter...

Rickard had never been good at concealing his emotions, so what he sought now was seclusion.  A moment in which he could gaze upwards and reflect on all that had come to pass. The times he had spent with Elvira. 

 

To think, a man who’d stumbled from a position of wealth and nobility would choose the life of an Ascended.  It wasn’t a comfortable transition; he was unbalanced, unwise and all the while consumed by his pathetic pride.  Still, he grew fond of who was at the time the Sage of Ruin, learning from her not only compassion and empathy, but also how to find peace and balance.  But what lingered most predominantly in Rickard’s mind was one simple fact. Unlike all of those past lovers, friends and family members who came and went, Elvira had never once abandoned him.  Even when at his lowest point. When he’d given up and turned a blind eye; after giving into pride and desperation, she was always there for him.  

 

“I only wish you’d been there, in the beginning.”

 

She might not have brought him into this world, but if one thing was for certain, she sure as hell raised him.  Elvira Naromis was the mother he’d never had.

 

“Vale avia...” 

The words of Flexio graced his tongue.  Tears ran down Rickard’s cheeks, yet as he looked up at the full moon’s glory, all he could do was smile. Deep down, he knew this wasn’t the end, not really. They would meet again, one day, and when that day came…

“I swear I will have lived up to your expectations!”

[someome 2053]

In a far off Grove, Hareven would read the letter a few times. A twinge of sadness would make the strange locale groan as the man sat down against a pile of assorted stone body parts, laying the letter down in his lap. He’d hang his head for a few moments, rummaging through his mess for a flask..

“One less reliable person to turn to..may she rest in peace, and that the world see another one like her one day..”

The words murmured to the fauna around him, before he’d down the flask found and resume his research and odd activities once more..

[NightOfTheWind 3226]

[KeiaTypeBeat 3287]

Vas would be slowly trailing the forests out of Gehenna, gazing upon a tree he once used as practice while he was a young shadeling. The laceration marks he left were no several feet above him, marking the decades that have long since past. As he reflected on his growth and on the events that led him to where he is now, a bird would flutter down, dropping a letter before flying off in a panic upon experiencing the Exalted’s frightful aura.

 

As the man read the letter, he’d start over multiple times. Certain his Parasite had not found a way to play tricks on him once again, memories began to flash through his mind. Memories he hadn’t dwelled upon in many years.

 

His mother, locking him in his room for several years as a child as punishment for not staying inside as often as she wanted.

 

His sister, constantly mocking him for not being the little brother she had wanted.

 

His brother, for always being compared to him. “Be more like Salem, Vas, why can’t you just be like your brother”, he murmured absentmindedly under his breath.

 

His nephew, the same age as he yet always acting like the superior for simply being blooded.

 

His uncle, who, despite Vas’ best efforts to make him proud and make the Mali’ker united, wished for his head on a pike.

 

His brother in law, who watched it all happen, not bothering to intervene or even comfort Vas as a child.

 

And of course, Father.

 

Every strike, every punch, every choke hold his father had punished Vas with flooded into his mind. 

 

”You are a disgrace to this family,” the former ‘ame mumbled to himself as he read the letter, echoing the words that once filled his mind. They were not uttered by his Parasite. They came from the man who was his Father.

 

“You do not deserve the Vincrute name. You are nothing to this family. Look at Salem, he makes me proud. You will never make me proud. You are a failure. You are an imbecile. You’re too much of a ***** to even try to kill me. Fight back, Vas. Be a man, Vas. Show some strength, Vas. You’re making your mother cry, Vas. Vas. Vas. Vas. Vas, why can’t you just not **** anything up for once?” the man’s hands begin to quiver as he repeated the words out loud, his voice growing strained as hate began to fill his entire being. He soon began shouting.

 

“I should have never taken you in! I should have abandoned you while you were a child! You do not deserve the life we gave you!” A tremendous wave of dread surged out of him as he snapped, causing the insects and the birds resting within the tree to begin scurrying and flying away, crying out with shrieks of terror.

 

And it all stopped.

 

There was his cousin, Elvira.

 

Elvira, who judged him for the good inside his heart. Elvira, who judged him for how he treated others. Elvira, who did not care what his race was, or how he was born. Elvira, who accepted him, and loved him, and treated him as her equal. And now she was gone. Just like Alirya, just like Neci and Salem and Gusono and Saint, just like Salem and Izier, she was gone. 

 

He dwelt on the thought. Of the Vincrutes, he was now the last. A family of Paladins and Holy Knights. The last survivor: a being of darkness, a spawn of Iblees, corrupter of souls and Messiah to the Goddess of Rancour. Of the Holy, only the Dark prevailed. Ironic, it was.

 

What started as a chuckle soon erupted into a bout of manic laughter.

 

“Just as we’ve discussed in great detail, Elvira: those who suffer the most, grow the most!” He shouted this ecstatically, a tendril crawling out of his robes, taking the form of an axe. Its stygian form shined under the moonlight like metal, and the man began to hack at the tree in front of him.

 

His laughing died down, and as the tree fell to the ground with a mighty crash, the man’s voice grew quiet, taking a monotonous tone.

 

“And it seems as if I’ve grown just a little bit more today.”

 

 

Spoiler

This is so sad, Alexa, play Say Something (I’m Giving Up On You) by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera 

 

[Unwillingly 18133]

From within the keep of Northgate, small pebbles and dust clouds arise from Cyrene’s feet as she wildly swings her blade to and fro. There was no trained path or course.

It was no more than a blade swinging through the air, making its way through the air by its guiding hand. A familiar voice speaks up.

 

“Did you hear? Someone named Elvira died.” he said.

The elf stopped with the sword, turning about slowly. 

“... Who?” 

“Elvira. Did you know her?”

“I did.”

“Rest easy, Elvira. You’ve treated me well.”

[_Elrith_ 4525]

“Just as it is unfortunate for those who are corrupted by the stalking shadow and coming night, it is no better being blinded by the afterglow of eerie light.” Ellenore frowns, commenting from within the confines of her room as she read over moth-eaten parchments. 

[HurferDurfer1 2979]

On a cool windy night in Reza an elderly Wick does a wild dance of joy on the rooftops as he hears the news.

[HedgeHug 2049]

In lands afar, overseeing the vast mesa plains of Arkas, a vulture circles its way downard onto the surface where a shaman sits – brooding. Murmuring a chant to himself.

 

“Afar’Ilzgul, Lup’Ilzgul. Zark’Slaium agh Uzg Nurmaturz, Elvirah Naromiz – Ilzgul uv Gat’lur”

[Fid 566]

Belestram is seated above the bay of Aegrothond when the news of Elvira’s death reaches his ears, and for a long time he remains silent- his slender ironwood fingers tapping upon the carved armrest of his high seat. His grey eyes watch the white-capped swells in the Bight. and an odd expression stirs within them. Then, turning to his grandson Finwe, he says quietly: “Tell me, child... what do you know of the Ascended Order?”

[Archipelego 2188]

Terrence picks up a stick, tossing it over the cliff face, watching it fall down to the forest canopy below. 

 

 

[justDEWit 133]

Learning of the news, a particular red-haired individual sat upon the ground and stared up at the stars. He remembered her and all of their times together – from when he had first begun to train in Clericism and long after he had become an Ascended. 

 

He sat and pondered. And he thought to himself many things: Did he like her? Was it her fault for his eventual disconnection? But he forced these questions from his mind, reminiscing upon all the good times they shared. The battles they fought against numerous cultists and the likes of Azdromoth and how they overcame the split of the holy orders. He remembered all the mochas she had offered him and the advice that she gave when he was down upon his luck. He remembered how she had healed him from near death and damn near sacrificed her own to make sure that he lived on. He remembered when she taught him the basics of Alchemy. He remembered the countless jokes and banter they had. He remembered the anger she had towards him whenever he had gone against her wishes.

 

And he wept.