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Centennial 0302: An Offered Branch


thequeennadine
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[[OOC: The following text is a letter sent to a particular group. It is being posted both to be kept as part of my public 'Centennial' collection, and because I adored Sorcerio's own letter-spree some months earlier. Please only respond in good faith! Unless you're funny.]]

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A letter addressed to the high Concord of Nevaehlen, as well as the Father Circle, delivered by swift wings and curled talons to their woodland chambers. It bears the mark and signature of a certain Oracle, alongside a wreath. Rue blossoms, orange buds, and a few fragile zinnias.


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"To my siblings of Nevaehlen, and of the Father Circle,

 

Once, I was welcomed into your care as a guest. Shaded by guileless boughs, wholehearted and honest in their wanting to offer me a home. It was above the heart and hearth of the Father Circle that I met many of my dearest friends. Rest comes easier to me when I consider these boons. I take solace in knowing that you still offer them to wayward mali’ like myself, as they begin their own adventures on Almaris.

 

I did not always understand their value. There were too many times, too many long years spent in self-imposed isolation, that I looked at them with contempt. I felt as if I would forever be a guest, forever be less than a peer, forever be a useful thing to man your gates. It would be a farce to say I have eschewed my ill shaded opinions of your cabal; yet, I can no longer level them with so much contempt. I can no longer condone the actions of my younger self.

 

I have only just begun to take steps towards righting my misguided ways. Towards approaching my doctrine and faith as a teacher, instead of an entitled ‘visionary’. The things I know to be true may differ from what you believe to be right. They may mark me as a draoi and a heresiarch. I willingly take on that judgment. 

 

However, it is not out of any misplaced guilt, nor any doubt in my good Work. 

 

It is out of a deep respect for the true spirit of the few traditions we share.

 

Rumors have been perpetuated, levying guilt on my name for the crimes of ‘utilizing dark magicks’, ‘being a servant of the Titan’ and ‘associating with darkspawn’. These are falsehoods I have endeavored to disprove– and have managed to, by the tests and trials of Caras Anor. Still, my attempts to parley with wards of the Father Circle, and the Vale of Nevaehlen, are rebuffed. They follow your laws, and shear away any contact with me whenever able.

 

My hope in directing this final attempt to you, is not to relieve myself of banishment. I have no intentions to ever darken your doorstep again. Instead, I ask that your citizens, if wanting, be allowed to communicate with me at no risk to their homes, or livelihood. That I might be able to face the judgment of my once-peers in its fullness, rather than by the bare substitute of state issued silence. There is much that I would like to repent for, personally."

 

SIGNED,
Dubh Ainmhí. The Oracle, Dread. Daughter of Truth. Voice of the Great Owl, Idol of Knowledge & Wisdom.


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Edited by thequeennadine
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"I don't forgive you," said Cathair aen Sov menacingly. "You move, I'll send you a letter. You twitch, I'll send you a letter. You cry, I'll send you a letter later. Keep your chin up Ms. Dubh Ainmhi, there is forgiveness for you in all of our hearts, you beautiful bastard." 

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