AN OWL’S LAST FLIGHT

[shay 2582]

AN OWL’S LAST FLIGHT

To be published upon the death of Maheral Azorella Elibar’acal

---

Spoiler

 

---

 

Oblivion does not frighten me. The threat of being forgotten does; the idea of merely being left to the insects roaming beneath our feet is an incomprehensible fate for any ‘thill. We all shall die, that much is certain, however it is the nature of death we must loom around. If this parchment is gracing the eyes of beings other than myself, it can be well assumed I have been forced to face oblivion myself. A strange sentence to write indeed, however despite our rather extended lifespans we mali’thill too must eventually face the cold grips of death herself. One can hope that I passed peacefully, no reservations, old and comfortable somewhere surrounded by a plethora of beets. I hope to watch my son grow old, I hope to have more sons to watch, perhaps a daughter. I hope.

 

I write this in a spot of hesitation, animosity. The teachings of Larihei are being brushed aside. Her children have been failing of late, her influence, the influence of the Maheral waning. I hope when this parchment reaches the light of day such a narrative no longer applies within our walls. I hope. It is strange to reflect on your teachings, your impact, when you are blatantly unaware of such. Thus, I choose not to. I choose to instead reflect on the good that has fallen upon my blessed life. 

 

Maheral Elervathar. First and foremost I would like to thank you for the trust you bestowed in me to uphold the teachings of the Maheralan before you, and Larihei herself. As I write this, I hope your teachings truly reverberated through my being, allowing me to further distribute the word of the Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya through the children of silver. If I have failed you, I am deeply sorry. Oblivion does not scare me, but tarnishing your line, your wisdom. I can think of no worse fate. 

 

Maln. A title held by so many, yet so few. I feel no need to name particulars, you know who you are. I truly hope I outlive you all and this portion is irrelevant, I  hope. However, I am grateful for your influence, your patience. I am grateful for the consolation, the unnecessarily long conversations to soothe my ego. I am sorry for the outbursts, the lack of empathy. Most importantly, I’m sorry for the teacups.

 

The Golden Owls. There are too many of you to mention individually, and I anticipate upon my demise you’ve heard the goings on of my brain far too many times. My love for our nation is indescribable, such is truth. I have oft touted that there is no greater bond than the bond which ties the mali’thill to our blessed bastion. In that festers my greatest lie. There is no greater bond than the bond which ties me to you. Acting as your Matriarch, watching you grow, pester, make mistakes, has truly been an honour. For that I am thankful. Theris will lead you well as Patriarch and, with some luck, shall share the same sentiment as I.

 

Finally, Luavyn. Mayilu. If this reaches you I am disappointed. One would hope that we went out together, your rampant babbling pushing me past that final point. If, by some chance, you outlive me let me state this clearly; 

If you remarry I will haunt you.

 

With luck, this parchment will be shoved in a stack of many. Lost, forgotten, and replaced by some final testimony, drafted by myself sometime within my eight hundredth year upon this realm. However, in the chance that this is released, I would like to echo the words of my ancestors, “sacrifice is the first step towards purity.”

Oblivion does not frighten me.

Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya. 

 

---

 

Signed, 

Maheral, Azorella Elibar’acal

 

 

---

 

Spoiler

“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.” 

The words kept echoing in her mind, her eyes rabidly focusing upon Adeline. Her peer. She called her here to apologize. She was supposed to apologize.

“You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming.”

Despite the incessant ramblings within her mind, Azorella’s body crushed under the impact of the attacking creature. Guttural screams spilling from her mouth, the events leading up to her untimely demise continually playing in her mind.

 

“She told me she was sorry, she wanted to apologize. She lied. SHE LIED.”

With the minimal strength left within her frail body, the Maheral mustered her last line

 

“ADELINE YOU TRAITOR”

With that, she drew cold. Her purple-blue eyes fading. The once boisterous Elfess silenced in one blow.

“Oblivion does not frighten me.”

 

 

[lemonke 6014]

Alimar literally ******* cries like a baby bean

[frankdh 2418]

The Maheral simply is. 

[Linde 119]

Luavyn eats a beet in memory of his late Maheral-wife whilst shedding tears for being condemned to eternal chastisement.

[Ryloth 4321]

Haskir’s eyes scan the missive with profound sadness. One of the first Mali’thill that the Pantera had ever met in his young, naive adulthood was Azorella Elibar’acal. Despite her uncanny, almost irrational superiority complex, the Kharajyr somehow found friendship with the Mali’thill. In fact, Azorella had been considered one of Haskir’s closest friends even after his exodus from the Silver State. He bathed in the nostalgia of their comical conversations, the gifts they shared, their secrets they exchanged, and the gossip they reveled in. Since he met her, he told Azorella time and time again he would see her as Maheral – and right he was.

He wept as he read her last flight, eyes rescanning the parchment a number of times as if unable to comprehend what had truly happened. Dearly wishing he could have attended her wedding with the now Luavyn Elibar’acal, another one of his close friends, regret filled his heart and he began to cry. It was rare that the High Aelkos would allow himself such tender emotion, but he clutched the missive with a sadness unforeseen.

Without a word, he neatly folded the parchment and tucked it away within a drawer somewhere in his home alongside his old first-class citizenship papers that Azorella had once signed:

 

Haskir then sought out his Metz’al to hang his head over their shoulder in despair.

[reko 133]

Evelon, with her hair in a woolly mess and still sleep in her eye, awoke to the collapse of her world. As she read over the numerous missives that had made their presence overnight she found her gaze phasing past the words inking the pages. She was still asleep, of course, she thought. This was nothing to wind up over.

 

It took hours for the reality to finally settle in, and as it did she strolled past the new posting – Azorella’s last letter. Emotions of conflicting nature stirred within, but ultimately, melancholy took over her visage. As was custom, she held a monologue drenched in emotion in memory of the late mali: “I liked your headband.”

[Gemini 1737]

“For years we disagreed with one another, fighting each-other to the last nerve. One would surely say we were the nemesis of one another. Yet, that never stopped either one of us to seek progress and bestow the best care upon the Motherland and her citizens. We worked tirelessly towards a happy nation and cared citizens. Never did you let our disagreements stand in your way towards progress. 
Your death shall not be in vain; You shall forever live in our memories as we work towards a better nation for all of us” Nuala talked to herself as she was sitting somewhere in the Uradir farms, gazing at the sky “It is a shame I will never get to call you a friend”

[Demented_Delila 1248]

She reads, in silence, settled on the edge of her bed, ginger root chewed thoroughly between her teeth as if it’d soothe how ill she felt. In a moment of cold sobriety, it dawned upon the elfess that the Maheral had been much like herself. For the first time in many years, she begins to cry softly, hiccuping out bitter laughter. The old black dog raises his head from the floor, dark eyes watching her for a moment.

 

“Laurir Elibar’acal, Okarir’mali,  first, before Maheral Azorella, a stunning , wise Golden Owl whose wings have taken her elsewhere, next. It seems like an eternity ago that I met you, that I knew you, and I’m saddened to never be led at Elheial’lauriran meetings by you again…” 

 

She hiccups, rubbing tears from her pale face with scarred fingers, her gaze uneasy as it remains on the parchment. 

 

“Go forward and find yourself worthy, wherever your spirit may roam… if it haunts us, I don’t think I’d mind that too much myself. At least… I’d maybe get a second chance to say I’m sorry for any of the times we’ve quarreled, though it’s been many years…”

 

Her head was beginning to hurt, her eyes watering still. The morning light flooded her room and she’d stagger to close the curtains. When they are closed, she is left in darkness, and she worries about the circumstances of the youthful mali’thill’s death. Had it been quick? Had she gotten to kiss Luavyn goodbye before she set off to the world that morning?

 

A dozen thoughts race through her head and all at once, they cease. She’d bow her head and utter a single phrase, drawn from her lips in praise, in adoration, in mourning, for an owl who had left them all behind.

 

“Ay’Azorella Elibar’acal.”