Frozen Ash.

[ABruhMoment 609]

Frozen Ash.

 

A grandiose archway, now merely a window into the cataclysm of his once beloved home. Aesilnoth had stopped short of the arch, his mind drew a blank. He could only attempt to comprehend what his one eye could see. Where once the capital Tahu’lareh stood, a fortress atop the mountain, was now reduced to an abyssal pit of fire and ash. Yet even then, he was compelled to move forward. Clambering his way up the decimated mountain side, his lungs burned as frigid air became mixed with ash and smoke. What could have done this? His thoughts seemed to race through his mind at a million miles a second. Why did this happen? Eventually making his way over the crumbling mountain side, finding a sturdy surface to perch himself upon. What he found both astounded him and filled him with immeasurable sorrow. Have the demons done this? His eye scanned through the cataclysmic event. His breaths had become rapid, as his heart intensified in it’s beating. Was this the work of an Aengul? His hands gripped tightly at his sides. He was unsure what to do, yet soon decided to pace through the now pseudo valley. Entirely unrecognizable, he’d walk through where the main square once stood. Has Wyrvun revoked Hesin’fin? The area around remained unstable for the time being, huge boulders still crumbled under their own weight. The streets and buildings of Tahu’lareh reduced to a wide expanse of rubble and destruction. Each step he took through wreckage solidified his heartbreak.
 

                                                     One hour earlier…

 

Aesilnoth set his left hand over his blinded left eye. His hands traced over the scar which pierced through the center like a bolt of lightning. The up and coming siege of Elvenesse was fresh in his mind. It was really the only thing he could think about at the moment. He couldn’t help it, for it was in his nature to prepare for battle. He had held a blade for nearly two centuries, he’s known no other way. The former Fennic Commandant prepared not only his blade, but his mind as well. The infinite possibilities that could occur, yet he must choose a select few to keep in mind. He understood just how important quick decisions can be. The difference between victory and defeat, the difference between life and death. The mali’fenn elected for a walk, as they were quite effective in clearing the mind. As well as further familiarizing himself with the landscape. However, this walk took quite a twist. The sky was pierced open, flashes of lighting exploded through the air in the distance. But this was no normal thunderstorm. He could tell these flashes of light were something more. Remarking the direction the lights came from, as well as estimating the distance, he decided to head towards the Druidic Grove. On his way, suddenly it seemed like the world had erupted. Incredible lights colored a deep sapphire seemingly merged with the lightning. Then came the sound. Deafening, even from the distance he was at, it caused him to wince at how sudden and powerful the sound was. Which Aesilnoth later remarked as the loudest he had ever heard. Upon his arrival at the druid’s grove, he realized he was not the only curious party. The gates of the grove were backed up with many unique individuals, all attempting to see what had transpired only moments ago. However, most if not all were turned away. Luckily, the Snow Elf had been recognized by those already within the grove. With a few words, the brambles that blocked the gateway dispersed to allow him entry. The first few faces he saw, Avius and Evar’tir, clued him in to this sudden change of heart. Regarding each with a nod of his head in thanks, though he further questioned Evar’tir about the event. Pondering over Evar’s answer, he meandered his way into the Elder Tree, where he would find Avius once again. A brief discussion, filled with curiosity. Soon one of the druids approached them, explaining that the being needed rest and space. Accepting the fact, Aesilnoth traversed his way back to the surface. It was only moments later, that the ground itself began to shake once again. Another cataclysm was on the horizon. He could tell whatever it was, had been nearby. Soon smoke began to arise in the distance. This is when the Snow Elf’s heart sank, for he realized where the smoke arose from. Without a word, he simply ran. 

 

Present time.

He continued on, walking through what was once the Fennic clinic. Now, just a crater filled with rubble, as the rest of the city had become. Close by, a noise sounded from a collapsed hole in the ground. A sound which was definitely alien to the landscape around him. Testing the edge before peering over, to which he would spot a singular horse. Black in color, though severely shrouded with ash. He descended his way downward. The steed was showing signs of distress and nerves, as it should have been. Aesilnoth shushed the beast, his hands raising harmlessly. Calling out to it, hoping a soothing voice could calm his newly found friend. The horse sneezed away the bits of ash tickling at his nostrils, but seemed to calm some at the approaching Snow Elf. Finally, his hand made contact with the steed. Brushing over the majestic beast, cleansing it of the ash as best as he could. There seemed to be a glimmer of hope deep within him. This horse’s survival of whatever had occurred in Tahu’lareh was just as remarkable as the event itself. He was placed in command of a cavalry unit, one meant to find where the fighting was thickest. This horse, the location, the event itself, everything seemed to line up. This horse had become a beacon of hope, an omen, divinely blessed by his one true deity. Aesilnoth simply nodded without a word, for he understood what this meant. He then could hear deep rumbling beneath the earth, a sign of further calamity to come. Wasting no time to idle about, he mounted the horse swiftly. A well trained Fennic steed, to be sure. Tapping the steed in it’s side with his boot, causing it to begin galloping through an alternate route. Descending what was left of the mountain, he’d find himself on the road towards the human nations. Though he headed towards the Cloud Temple, instead. Leaving behind the cataclysm of his motherland. Deep down, he wished to learn what exactly happened, but seemingly didn’t at the same time. For the ice crown fortress atop the mountain held many memories, both of wondrous times, as well as the betrayal of his kin. Above all, he regarded to himself the complete and utter desecration of his ancestors. For the crypt within the citadel held his ancestors. The former rulers and first mali’fenn alike. All of which are likely lost beneath the weight of the mountain. But they were not all, both friends and family alike were laid to rest in the crypt beneath the city surface. The various shrines to his deity now reduced to the same rubble as the rest. The final resting place of so many he loved, obliterated in the blink of an eye. Including the man he regarded as truly his closest friend, the former Grand Prince Aelthir Tundrak the second. Everything had seemed to hit him at once. For he finally now understood what had happened. For now, Aesilnoth was drowning in an indescribable emptiness.

[Axelu 4333]

In the ruins of Tahu’Lareh, its Princess  loomed, prostrate aside a pillar. Her pallid hair, flaxen and habitually well-kempt, was in awry, and her gown tattered. She did not initially note the presence of her uncle, a man who had become a father to her in the absence of her own,  Aelthir. Lydienne inspired heftily, surveying the city that had been obliterated -- that of her childhood – and resolved to assure the survival of her kith, now watching that elf Aesilnoth from afar.

 

”In a fashion akin to phoenices, we may now we reborn,” intoned she, her chin hefting a degree.

[Nectorist 12869]

“Is is just me, or have you all noticed that all of the high elves have turned into snow elves too?” Aldred asks his sons and servants as they picnic atop a hill overlooking the smoldering ruins of Tahu’lareh.