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THE END. THE BEGINNING.


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THE END. THE BEGINNING.

 

 


 

""Time is like a wind that moves us forward, but the culture must remain. It is for this reason that the Maheral should be a firm stone unmoldable like common clay."

Earendur Vym'vallei

 


 

THE END.  It is time and time again which the mali'aheral have been put to test. That the words of Larihei, maehr'sae hiylun'ehya, have been called into question. But it is only those who are impure and who seek the destruction of our Silver People who would ever waver from it. It is only the swarms of uncivilized mali'thillne who lay destitute outside our walls who would seek for the Children of Silver to turn away from their blessed guiding Silver Light. And it is for one elf, chosen to uphold Larihei's Silver Flock and their ancient ways that must lead our kind to see that this culture endures: Maheral.

 

THE BEGINNING.  Just as one candle can be lit by the last, so too is it the Malauriran who tend to the light which propels the Children of Silver forth through time. It is the mantle of this Will of Larihei that the mali’thill shall carry forth as they ensure our legacy is tarnished but for moments, and not for longer than is required to so rebuild the way of our people. It is so the wait shall end and so the call of the mali’thill shall be answered. So speak, and so the Hieal'malauriran shall answer.

 

liewyn'Larihei eltaeleh walehe ohn vallein eltaliyna walehe

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Kaelan Aldin had put his name forward, knowing all too well his former experience and service to el'cihi was deeply needed.

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Valazaer Calith looks over the missive and lifts a single hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, "I truly wish they wouldn't be so vague. But it is good to see the elders moving about and ridding themselves of some dust. I wonder who would come to the stand, for the better." He wipes off some leftover frost from his coat as the island's temperature increased ever so slightly, warming everything up.

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"Oh our great venerated elders, may you know that our will has never wavered, our strength never waned. For we stand together, brother, sister, as comrades! May all know the true ways of our ancestral Homeland, this blessed motherland which we inherit from those who came before. May our strength, wisdom, and courage only grow as we stride through these times! Know we will not bend to the throngs of 'ata beyond our walls, oh Elders, bring us a Maheral pure of soul, kind of heart, and steady of will! For we need one who KNOWS what is pure, a citizen and a true Patriot."

 

A beautiful elven sailor speaks out, his breath light and airy

 

"I, Pamphilos,  shall put before all, willingness to see this through!"

Edited by SteppeNomad
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[!] The Sohaer of Haelun'or, Alaion Miravaris, looked upon this missive; a bow of his head. "..If I'd not the heavy mantle of Leadership by Teaching, it would be an honour for me to step forth - to teach, to guide, to uphold elmaehr'sae hiylun'ehya; the eternal will of Larihei. And yet, there is ever question as to how worthy I would even be, to think to name myself 'most pure'; after all, I bear too the blood-spotted gloves of 'tir, and much else." As he eyed another paper, he hummed a gentle, lilted tune; clutching the missive to his heart. "One can only hope that a figure worthy of being called Most Pure arises; guidance, in these times, must be brought forth by that position which Simply Is."

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"No doubt we are in troubling times." The machine grimaced. "When the barbaric, druidic, sons and daughters of Malin, the 'ame, are more civilized than their 'aheral cousins and more adept in rationale; something is wrong. Let it be known that the Bastion of Wood Elven Kind, The Vale of Nevaehlen, contains persons more capable of thought than the 'ata of Celia'nor." Elrith held the missive in his gauntleted hands, ever standing amongst the square of Haelun'or. "Hopefully, we are graced with a 'thill of a most capable nature. Blessed is the will of Larihei, blessed is the Lady of Silver."

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“So shall they speak, the era of silence coming to a halt. So shall the children of silver bloom.” Said the Laurir to her friends, those gathered. 

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The eyes of the Okarir'mali shifted. He fluttered the parchment sheet pinched betwixt his thumbs and forefingers. Echoes of recent conversations flooded his mind. Be it intuition or his own personal delusion, he began to inwardly theorise what may come to pass.

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In order to make sure his name would be forwarded to all Malauriran, Seth Calith would forward a letter to Earendur@ZBLBAC5 ). Knowing the deed was done, he would continue with his daily work as he said to himself quietly.

"Maehr'sae Hiylun'ehya." 

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