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[Parion 1130]

Spoiler

 

 

A letter lacking a title or foreword appears at each unwitting door, though officially sealed with the wax of the Sohaer’s office. For those it concerns, the man’s disappearance prevails soon after with the assistance of his butler, leaving the Maehr’tehral manor to the care of his niece Visenna and his siblings.

 

19th of The Amber Cold, 1783

 

 

There was a time in youth where I aspired to be cherished, from a place of arrogance and conceit; I thought I could embody the appeal of a Lucion Sullas or, at times, Kalenz Uradir. I expected ludicrous achievements, such as seeing an era comparable to Dio Astore to multiply at my fingertips, or to be proof of an infallible revolution – maybe the face of one. But we notice obsessions are in vain as we physically outlast our ambitions. It becomes grounding as you realise your limits. Now, I do not write. I lose my ability to read. I still mourn the Maheral Elibar’acal’s passing. My pretence is tested. I have faults, in which many cases disconcert me. After twelve years of tenure, for a lack of better wording, I will condemn myself for being an inconsequential leader.

 

Despite my enervation, pride has stood between me and resignation, and it is regrettable knowing this might remain my last chapter with elheial’thilln. But, if there is one thing be learned from my predecessors, I must not allow the executive seat of the Silver Council sit stagnant, lest I – or anyone else – weaken the values of Maehr’sae. Of course, this Sohaership has not translated into the legacy I intended to depart with, but I always knew our circumstances were predestined to briefly suffer my exhaustion to some degree.

 

My life with Haelun’or, however, should not be represented by these last years alone but rather my resolve through all iterations of elcihi’thilln, since a childhood in Asulon: as Sillumir, as an alchemist and physician, and as a Sohaer twice, along with what work I have done since re-establishing my political career in 1718. At least, I hope. Alas, there are no merits to tangents. I can disappoint no one more than I disappoint myself and need not defend anything.

 

 

Mali’thill. We are impossibly complicated, most of all to ourselves, though remain people who foremost represent our impeccable history of tradition. May that endure in my absence and with the esteemed Malaurir Sullas’ everlasting vigilance.

 

Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya, kaean’leh thilln chul’okarae

 

Former Sohaer, Okarir’hiylun, and Okarir’mali
Laurir Nelgauth Maehr’tehral

 

 

Spoiler

 

All in all, this was more or less planned when I returned to college. My time is very limited and I don’t intend on putting too much energy into LotC anymore... at least beyond my means. Maybe I will come and have a dig at things next summer seriously but, for now, I can see the community has been given the leg up to get it going without this cynical chihuahua hanging onto the reins. Just remember, Parion loves you.

 

 

 

[Ryloth 4321]

"The Sohaer we needed, but not the one we deserved." 

[squakhawk 14040]

Anethra stepped along the cobbled path unto her manor, finding the missive. Curious, she took so and looked it over – dim eyes of gold scanned over the document with an interest- although brief, as thought took place of cognition.

 

”Hrm – “

She paused, in hum a brief moment.

“Such a difficult to understand ‘thill. I’ve known Nelgauth to be a fighter, a leader, a scholar and a philosopher. Perhaps he does have this ambitious recognition he seeks. Rather than focusing upon his own achievements he still envies – or humbles himself by those past. I wonder if – or more when, time will tell he is one among them.”

 

She considered, stepping unto her grandiose labyrinth. She mazed throughout the twisting halls and senseless bounds, aimlessly – although directedly – wandering until she happened upon a kitchen. A crisp, bright apple of red sat upon the counter, as if waiting. She took a satisfying bite as the flesh found it’s way between every incisor, the delicate and sweet, sticky juices within revealing themselves. She closed her eyes in moment to savour such an elegeant experience, before opening oncemore. Cold, as a breeze flew the trees and fields of her farms, still stood before her manor. She blinked with dull, half-lidded yellow eyes, stepping unto her manor as she left the missive for others of her family to read. 

[FlemishSupremacy 6115]

Elathion salutes his favourite Orenian-Aldemari sleeper agent Sohaer.

[Gallic 1066]

Fiil’Yar sends Nelgauth a package of a dozen cactus cookies as a show of support and approval for her friend, but doesn’t send a letter as presumably they’ll hang out eventually.

[- Pastry 931]

A return letter bearing the seal of the Office of the Maheral. It is short, penned in the austere handwriting of the little elf in the highest seat.

 

Laurir Nelgauth Maehr’tehral,

 

The Maheral is, but the Sohaer had to be. You have served admirably and fostered for all of us a democracy that has surpassed in function even the governments of the Fringe – and those before. Rest. You have earned it. I expect you over for tea come next Elven week.

 

Ikur

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

Visenna Maehr’tehral sighs as she observes her uncle Nelgauth send off his declaration. She would miss the prestige his position brought to their talonnii, but it was his health that she cared more for in the end. She’d reluctantly treat him to a glass of brandy alongside Earnest, very much earned.