Falling Leaves [PK]

[Adstrom 547]

 

   Falling Leaves

Spoiler

 

Crown Prince-Consort Esmond Reede de Astrea of Elysium

0 S.A. - 62 S.A.

The crisp air that wafted throughout the portside city of Vortice and its docks permeated the nose of a particular Adunian man who roamed its lengths, emerald eyes cast outward over the glistening sea which crashed idly against the creaking wood he stood upon. Though he lingered not, for concerns lay elsewhere, a gentle hum emitting from the man as he circled through the town, halting in its square when his gaze settled upon a pearlescent haired Badawi woman.

The olden memory flashed and dissipated in a fleeting instant. A premonition. And yet, before Esmond could even recall what had just occurred within his mind, his eyes fell upon a hiss of motion, horror enveloping him at the clear sight of a translucent flask soaring through the air, hurdling swiftly toward himself, and his shield-brother at his side. The Adunic Paladin hesitated not, capitalizing on perhaps a split second of time, as he heaved with all of his strength and bound forth into the man at his left, forcefully shoving Togrim backward before he could react. And without another moment, the blast potion collided with the jagged rock at their flank, an eruption of crumbling stone and shrapnel paired with the sheer might of the blast casting him forth into the vile embrace of the cavern’s sharp and shadowy depths. As he began to soar through the air, it felt as if everything around him began to slow, memories and swift reminiscence enveloping him. 

 

Like a slowly descending leaf, caught in a gentle breeze.

The warmth of a cramped smithy faded in, its innards alive with miasmic heat. An emerald-eyed Adunian standing by the cold steel of the anvil, hammer in hand and sweat upon his brow, while a towering elf who clutched a small glass marble in their grasp watched from the side, brows knit in scrutiny. The rough beginnings of a dagger lay on the metal before him, and he was fast at work, tapering its composure as the tool was brought down against the heated ingot. Dink. Clang. Dink. It faded away.

Then, in its place, a new memory flared. He stood nearby the roaring hearth fire of a cold home, gaze fixated on its dancing cinders before it swiveled back towards an equally cold high-elf that stood opposite to him. The hands of both men dripped fresh crimson and soon were clasped together in paramount sincerity. “You must tell no one.” One spoke, in a grave tone. To which the other replied without hesitation. “Ti - mal'onnan to the end, now.” And then, it too was gone.

Next, it contorted, and he was in the cold, unforgiving grasp of nature. Huddled along the length of a dwindling campfire, his body trembling greatly as the freshly skinned pelt of a wolf hung around his neck, blood escaping from a nasty wound in his shoulder. He felt his vision grow blurry until he collapsed sideward and everything darkened momentarily.

 

 

When the light returned, he stood by the Badawi woman again, a young child clutched in their arms, cradled as it slept. Tears flowed from his emerald eyes as they remained glued to the duo, his arms wrapped around them both in a gentle embrace, warmth enveloping them until a bright, gleaming luminescence engulfed the room, and the scene dissipated.

 

Suddenly, that same glow was replaced by the shimmering rays of the sun. He sat upon a patchwork blanket, three children nestled nearby, and the same woman from before at his side, protected by the shade of a large oaken tree. Joviality and comfort seemed to surround and radiate from them, smiles painted about as they conversed and laughed together as a family would.

 

Too, did such a gathering melt away, a far more regal procession now present. Friends and family from all across the realm seated in uniform fashion facing an altar. Behind it stood the Adunian and the Badawi, after an extensive and troubling courtship that had spanned an unending period of years neither of them would ever have expected. One said “I do” and the other chimed out the same in immediate mimicry, the union of two unbreakable bonds rectified. The platitude phrase “Till death” was never spoken, but it rang throughout the memory all the same, like some horrid overlapping chime. 

 

Finally, his mind spun around once more. He now kneeled within a sacred chancery of pure white quartz, glistening mists of emerald hue billowing upward rapidly and encircling him as an eloquent man spoke before him. Tenants and creeds delivered, enshrined, and emboldened in interwoven light. Tales of sacrifice and heroism relayed in mighty splendor. This was when it all clicked together, in culmination.

 

And then, time began to accelerate.

And in a mere instant, Esmond thought of all who had impacted his life.

Of Eugeo de Astrea

Of Daubeny Bashkimi.

Of Sinsio.
Of Azriel de Astrea Morningstar.

Of Lorrick Al-Wahdi

Of Lawrence Dreadmoore.

Of Eleonore O'Hara de Astrea.

Of Silas Astasel.

Of Fitzgerald Reede de Astrea.

Of Nisreen Reede de Astrea.

Of Annore Reede de Astrea.

Of many more,

And ultimately, of Aylin Reede de Astrea.

Aylin.

 

That was where he lingered. All the reminiscence, all the reflection - it coalesced into a vivid depiction, a symbolic representation of all that coursed throughout him, finalized in a warmth-ridden visualization of Aylin. A pure illustration within his mind, forged by unending, boundless, persistent, and ever-enduring love, endearment, and fervor.

----

Behind the slots of his ferrum mask, his emerald eyes flashed open, affixed to his wife as his form began to plummet downward rapidly. Momentum had finally caught up with him, and he knew now what awaited him next. A painful emittance of an emotion-filled outcry rang out, carrying throughout the cave as it escaped from inbetwixt his lips.

 

“I love you, Aylin.”

 

They were hurried final words, but he meant them with every fiber of his being. And, with the grotesque coalition of rock and flesh, he collided abruptly with fate. A large and jagged stalagmite that loomed underneath pierced immediately through his gut, not even a yell allowed before the bright and joyous fire behind the emerald gaze of the Adunian was extinguished forever. 

----

And for a few moments, his voice still echoed. His last words ricocheted off the cavern’s walls, in a haunting melody, before silence swooped inward in its place.

 

The leaf had reached the earth below.

----

Spoiler

[OOC Note]

 

Esmond was my second ever character on LotC, and it is bittersweet to finally see him go. I have severely enjoyed playing him and I truly think he got a good ending, albeit sad. I have no words to describe how thankful I am for all of the friends that I have met through playing him, and being involved within Elysium, though. Many of whom now remain my closest. I have found that LotC is oftentimes a hive of toxicity, but it is the bright corners that make it all worthwhile in the end. Moreover, I am incredibly grateful for all the opportunities I have been granted through him, and of course all the fun and enjoyable roleplay. Again, thank you to all those who I roleplay with, for helping me weave Esmond into who he became, as well as becoming intertwined in his story. I’d also like to give special thanks to @Charbi  and @ThatTromboneGuy, for playing perhaps the largest roles in his characterization, and mine as well.

 

o7 to all.

 

 

[Charbi 398]

 

“𝕀 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕥 𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟

𝕊𝕠 𝕤𝕠𝕗𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕

ℍ𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕟𝕠 𝕕𝕚𝕟

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕞𝕖

𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕕 𝕤𝕒𝕪,

‘𝕀𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘, 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖

‘𝕋𝕚𝕝 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕒𝕪.’”

 

Aylin never left his side in the hours, the days since she, Togrim, and Alona had carried him from the burning cave. She worked meticulously as her mother had taught her, ensuring his mortal body was peaceful so that she could fool herself that he was only sleeping and would surely wake when dawn came. 

She stood vigil over him, the utter shock of what she saw before her betraying her senses until exhaustion took her. She did not hear her friends of the Lunaran guard peer through the door and stand vigil until she remerged at dawn and asked for their help to move him. 

In the subsequent weeks, the Badawi still woke most nights with Esmond’s final moments burned into her retina, replaying over and over as guilt and grief took turns to thread each link in their chains over her heart, weighing her further.
There were other nights that still a fracture of her soul hoped he’d walk in through their bedroom door and introduce himself as Sirame Chirr once more, that the horrors that had occurred in that dark cave had been a farce. She went through life as an echo of her former self, finding solace instead in his fading scent on his clothes and bedsheets.
 

When she could no longer smell him, when she desperately feared she’d lose his memory like water through cupped hands, and her Badawi spirit craved to roam once more, she began her pilgrimage to the places where time’s fabric still held echoes of memory—their lives together. 

 

She began by standing in front of the great white dogwood tree in the de Astrean palace and touching the bark to conjure the music of her bridal walk to reverberate around her.

 

 

She moved to the hilltop where Esmond had been thoughtful and prepared a picnic with the children. She remembered just how much she had missed Annore but oh so thankful to have been reminded of what was important: family and treasure it was to spend time with one another. 

 

 

Time…

Aylin felt her heart constrict as guilt linked another weighty chain around it. How did their time together become so ephemeral, fleeting? There was so much of it that she missed so much that—

She tore herself from the hilltop, willing her feet to continue her crusade and made her way north. 

 

Aylin felt more like a ghost herself, displaced in time as she sat on the hill where she and Esmond raised Annore from tiny seedling til she left for Yong Ping. She yearned for the warm fireside where her husband held Fitz’s little hands and helped him stand upright. She climbed upward to the gardens that still remained and she stood on one end of the creek bidding her mother’s tradition of courtship as Esmond professed his love and intentions to her. 

To where he finally revealed himself as her love after a year of mourning him, disappearing so that the forces that hunted her would cease and he could still protect her from shadows. 

 

 

Her feet carried her Eastward where the two had vanquished brigands, to the tea house they so enjoyed. Southward she went to the golden seas where only starlight smiled down upon them that day: where she taught him about her people, her customs, bestowed him his own Jouharu and the promises that she would teach their children one day. 

 

She chartered a boat back to familiar Western waters and walked the paths to the Elven Kingdom, recalling how they wished to take time to explore Almaris together, and after their trip to the Elven seat, promised they would and…never did. 

 

A light rain had descended now as she ventured past Elysium and onward to Vortice where memories were abundant but fading at the edges due to time. She recalled their first kiss along the benches, the countless evenings she spent visiting him, cousin Eleonore and Silas, the playful brawl in the rose garden that resulted in an old friend mistaking it for trouble and intervening. She recalled confessed feelings at the marble temple, the brawl he stepped in to protect her and their unborn son, and then…

The tavern was mostly the same. Aylin swallowed and made her way to the seat by window and took her spot as she did all those years ago. 

“There is beauty in simplicity,” she had said to him. What was it that he returned with? 

 

“There is certainly beauty in simplicity, that I agree with. Just as there is beauty in intricacy and detail, among other things. All things that litter this realm are beautiful in their own way, be it something natural, like this flower Or something like this bustling port town, full of manmade life and activity, brick and labor.” 

He had given her a daisy: the recurring symbol of finding beauty in mundane, fleeting moments, in the purity, essence, and timelessness of their love. 
 

 

And it was with those words that she vowed to live the remainder of her days for him, her anchor: to remind herself to stop a while and smell the daisies. 

“I love you, too, Esmond,” she was finally able to reply. 

 

OoC:

Spoiler

What an incredible journey these two cuties have taken together! Thank you so much @SpaceOddity for the incredible, soul warming RP, all the laughs, the tears, the triumphs, the heartache, and the joy. 

It has been my honour to play Esmond’s IRP wife and get to know such a wonderfully kind, talented, generous, amazing individual that absolutely shines through your writing and was so very reflected in Esmond’s personality. 

Here’s to a year of OoC friendship, I look forward to many more and any future chances we get to RP together again!

Love always,

Charbi ♡ 

 

[beetle 2675]

R

[Sonico_fate 40]

The shattering of an unopened wine bottle rang through The Drunken Bokolo. Red wine pooled across the tavern floor like blood. The barkeep's eyes remained fixated on the ground, refusing to look up at Sinsio.

Sinsio stared at the shattered glass at his feet, his mind clouded heavily with emotion.

"I'm so sorry…" the bartender whispered, almost to themself. 

Sinsio leaned down and picked up a piece of shattered glass and stared at it for a while before turning away and ambling out of the tavern like a zombie, glass crunching beneath his boots as he exited the bar. 

He walked out beyond the walls of Elysium and into the forest. Sunlight warmed his face as the remnants of the morning rain dripped onto his head. 

Sinsio sat on his knees in a clearing surrounded by tall trees. Birdsong and rustling leaves hummed quietly like a dirge. Two small shrines sat to his left, wrapped in foliage from the years. Each shrine had an item laid before them: the first one, an Aurum dagger for the Outrider Matilda. The second, Sinsio's first blade, forged by Former Head Ranger Absolon. 

Tears fell down his face silently as he began to construct the next shrine by stacking stones. When the work was done, Sinsio withdrew a piece of broken glass from his pocket. He laid the glass before the shrine, a label facing him that read "The Hermit's Ire Cabernet". 

"You have no idea what I went through to get this one right," said Sinsio out loud in a gentle voice. "First too sweet then too dry… but I got it. I finally got it. I almost gave up, moved on to the next greatest creation, but I knew you'd like the taste. You always liked my wine, but this one…" he chuckles before tears catch in the back of his throat and he chokes on his words. Sinsio regains his breath before continuing. "...It's some of my best work. I just wish you got to try some before you left. You would've liked it." 

Grass uproots between Sinsio's fingers as he clutches the ground, his knuckles turning white. Sobs wrack him as he stares at the newest grave in the forest through blurred vision. The forest is silent, the only sound his heartbeat pounding in his head like like drum. He lays down in the grass as his body weakens, falling asleep by the shrine.

Hours pass before Sinsio wakes up. Birdsong and rustling leaves humming quietly like a dirge. His eyes opened slowly, the melting colors of the afternoon sun piercing through the canopy of the trees above. Leaves fall in slow motion, circling to the ground in their dance with gravity. 

"Sleep well, Outrider."

Edited February 9, 2022 by Sonico_fate

[Valannor 6344]

A Leal Wyrmstalker stiffened in her nightly patrol, her gaze drawn westwards from the eastern plains, o'er hill and across the rill. She frowned, then placing herself cross legged before the shrine which bore her camp - and she looked to the words carven upon worn stone. A golden helmet, a replica of that bore by a man far greater than any of her fellows, greeted her countenance then. She lit a candle, and placed it upon the altar. 

 

"Carry them gently this good night, Brother Athna. Ne'er will I know all my kindred, but I will mourn their passing all the same. Whoever they were - let their name echo for aeons. Let their deeds be legend." 

[Suicidium 1295]

"Picture a wave in the ocean...and then it crashes on the shore, and it's gone. But the water is still there. The wave returns to the ocean, where it came from. And where it's supposed to be. Esmond Reede de Astrea lived and died a quiet, selfless hero.."

A forlorn Duke rests his hands on the stalwart mastercraft blade he had made for his student, to commemorate his successes with the trial of brotherhood as he gazes to the Dawnspire, moving off to light a candle.

"To the Sunlit Lord, We Pray"

 

[Arashiha 294]

Heavy plate sabatons echoes across the Elysian square as two Lunaran Guards headed into the Clinic, striding down the stairs in a quickened pace as the third amongst them brought up the rear, the Red headed elfess signialling for the others to move more quieter. 

          Nodding to the red head Lunah stepped forward and gently unlocked the door and peered inside, opening it wide as they gazed upon the scene inside. With heavy hearts and quietness they slowly closed the door once more and locked it. Nodding to one another Lunah and the other Lunaran Guard took up posts on either side of the Door and stood vigil, the red head moving to sit on the nearby couch. The trio would stand there well into the night and into the next day, barely moving a muscle until morning came.

[Lumie 124]

R

[Tigergiri 2859]

Raw Leika stood there, the news told as soon as she walked through the gates of the palace. Was it the alcohol flowing through her nerves or just maybe the thoughts that swirled in her lately? Her feet transported her to the one person she was never very intimate  with- Aylin. Embracing her sister with all she could the moment she could.  
 

Thinking back to the very moments she met, Esmond at their wedding and the smile that abducted everyone. First meeting  their children giggling within the corridors, not a single care in the world blowing a dwarven horn. Waking everyone up-  It felt like only moments ago.  A moment that they could grasp and keep there-but like smoke, the wisps of his very being grazed past the fingers of everyone they cherished.
 

His memory powerful Smokey smothering the city in anguish. 

[Heart_Spam 281]

The note from her mother dropped from trembling hands; Nisreen stood frozen in shock, disbelief. It was impossible - but why would she write if it was not true? The first place she went was not the clinic; it was to a tree, in the park, where her father had first taught her how to fight. And she swung her weapon at that tree until bark flew from it's trunk and Nisreen knelt upon the sodden earth, the tears a heavy burden that kept her from standing.

 

Then, and only then, after her tears had dried and she'd composed herself into one of silent, stubborn resignation, did she make her weary way to the clinic to bid farewell to Esmond Reede de Astrea, her father, for the last time.

[oryP 957]

Pyrin say silent within his private quarters, head held low, and his hands clenched upon the missive tightly. “Spasiba Herzen Reede.” The Mali’ker’s thoughts raced over the mental states of the Edmonds kin and beloved. “To what will happen of her?” Stated curiously. “Wielkae epaem cehz.”

[TwiSama 331]

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

As the news spreads like wildfire of the death of Esmond Reede, it took everyone for a turn. In the darkest night of the forests a small 'ker sat in fear. After hearing the news of her father's passing, Annore sat alone in mourn. The elfess did not know what to do, she continued in her thoughts, thinking back to the earliest memories of her father.

 

The small 'ker walking around the streets of the old Elysium, running into the man way before he was the one, she called Utata, offering to take her home to her Umama.

 

A time in a small cottage in the cold lands of Norland. The two sitting within the living room as Annore learned the thing she loves and knows most, Housemagery. Esmond showing his emerald aura to the child and giving her the thing most precious to her in life, the beautiful carrot plushie she brings everywhere, even as an adult.

Year later, her father worried for her and the trials she was doing, put her life on the line for them. Annore remembered get scolded so much for, but did not care in the time...

 

The two talking endlessly on how Annore so badly wanted a baby during some time, always around each other; having as simple as a drink or watching him smith...

 

Even just going to him about her beloved, he was always there for her, every step of the way; but it was she that was not there for him in his dying times...

 

As she continued to think, she would look up at the stary night with tears filled within her eyes, letting out a small wisp "Another goes I suppose, say hello to Umakhulu for me Utata.. rest well, you are dearly missed..." Before long, the 'ker moved off back to the nation of Elysium to those she called family in silence.

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

[Sewer_Rat 527]

A hooded figure sat by the fire somewhere in the jungles, with an enormous wolf chewing on the corpses of descendants behind it. As the figure threw some bones into the fire, it let out a strange chant "Lûp’Dlimbok…..Krank-ghashanuz!." As the chant finished, the fire would suddenly explode in size, as the hooded figure saw visions of the past, present and the future, as a chained up elf, told the news and the story about the death of an unknown man. "Hmmmm......mi haz been peepin ta mayke a interezting memury kome ta lyfe.....Perhapz diz azh....." He says to himself as his voice trails off,  as the figure continues staring into the fire.

[MokoMochi 422]

A mali dressed in white plated armor stained with crimson had departed from the clinic to give time to the beloved llir, Aylin Reede de Astrea and her heroic loveable late husband, Esmond Reede de Astrea. Alona went after her husband, Togrim, to ensure safety and his mental state. 

 

They return back to the Vanari household to retell the most heart touching and heart aching events that she witnessed that day. It would replay vividly in her mind, hearing the sounds over and over again. It all ceased as she took a deep breath gripping tightly onto Togrim’s arm looking towards him. “All for Esmond.” She would say with a sharp pain in her voice as the elfess came to the struggling end. Holding onto Togrim and her son Voldar tightly as she kept Esmond in her mind, mumbling to herself as she cried.

 

Spoiler

OOC NOTE: @SpaceOddityAAAAAAAA LOVE YOU T-T

 

[SadBeanQueen 209]

Upon receiving the news of the death of her friend and brother, the frail, old woman turns her gaze to the fireplace across the room. Tears slowly form, filling her ice-blue eyes. She sits in silence for a moment, thinking back to their beginnings in what was once known as Talon’s Port. She brings herself to chuckle slightly at a distant memory.

 

“I remember when he slept on our couch.”

 

Her mind drifts further to warm fire-side nights they shared in Silas’s living room, to his support to her family during the darkest of times. The excitement of the Badawi bridal party hunt, and finally, at last, when he wed her cousin within the palace. she smiles softly, letting out a long sigh.

 

“You are missed dearly, Esmond.”

 

She looks across the room to a de Astrean family portrait hanging upon the wall.

 

“Perhaps I will join you soon, wherever you are.”

 

She closes her eyes, allowing the tears that gathered in her eyes to flow down cheeks.

 

“I will see you on the other side.”

Spoiler