The Last Sage - Aeriels Devoted

[TheWyrdWolf 1532]

 

Spoiler

 

 

You notice a faded parchment that catches your eye, torn and weathered by the elements. The once ornate missive has become a reflection of the message it carries, bearing signs of decay and neglect, long forgotten. The faint signs of golden filigree around the parchment's edge have long since lost their shine. A Mongoose is stamped at the bottom of the page, its meaning lost to time.
 

 

As I travel through the war-torn landscape of the realm, I feel as though I am the last of a bygone age, a fading memory destined to be forgotten, with titles that once sparked reverence and hope, now barely carrying a glimmer of recognition in the eyes of descendants. Everywhere I go I see the same signs, the dreaded cycle that has plagued the Descendant races since the beginning of time is once again churning. The once burgeoning flame of faith and hope is dwindling, now naught but embers as the armies of the night surround us on all sides, and reports of the sea becoming impossible to traverse increase. Is this truly how it is supposed to end? It would appear there is no escaping our fate this time.

And on matters of faith, my beloved Lady.. I fear I am the last of your faithful servants. In ages past when our Order stood strong, one could find your faithful in any city, granted a measure of safety by our wards and sanctuaries. The prayers and praise once given to you however are nowhere to be heard or seen, even your holy symbol of the Mongoose that which I still carry has lost all meaning. It pains me, the suffering I feel on your behalf brings me to tears and I weep for the forgotten sacrifices of your faithful.

I recall the days of The Holy Alliance, the trinity of Xan, Tahariae, and my Lady Aeriel standing as a united front against the forces of the dark. And I recall the folly that was to be our downfall. Though this chapter of history is lost to the ages, I remember the days when the Alliance fractured and we were hunted by those we once called allies. Despite the gifts of longevity and knowledge you bestowed upon us, we could not escape the chains of our mortality and were bound to make mistakes we thought were beneath us. The fall of our Order was inevitable, for we stood divided amongst ourselves. In the end I believe my Brothers and Sisters lost sight of our purpose, and it led us down a path from which we could never truly return.

I remember the Elven Prince and the then Master Sage standing at odds with each other over a petty dispute, and I watched as battle lines were drawn, brothers and sisters ready to turn on each other, we turned our blades on one another instead of the true enemy. Though I knew then it was wrong, I still loved each of them like my own family, and even though I was bestowed the title of Justicar by the Master Sage to hunt down the rogues, I could not bring myself to do such. We had strayed from the path, we had forsaken our duty. The fall of our beloved Order followed swiftly, and the survivors scattered to the corners of the world to live out the rest of their days in the shadows.



The strength and vitality of my youth, emboldened by the gifts you had once given have long since faded. The sands of time are beginning to take a noticeable toll upon my form, exacting from me the heavy price of a life lived in service. Every battle with the Dark Forces of this Realm leaves me with one further scar, one further injury, with every battle i grow weaker, slower.. one day I will be too slow to react and it will be the last mistake I make. Some days I feel as if I hear the ringing of Sokars bell, a reminder that she waits to escort me to your city once my service in this realm is done. I do not weep for this however, service to you my Lady has given me purpose where none existed prior. I only hope that I may impart what wisdom and knowledge I have gathered to the next generation before I am to join you in your Golden City.

During my isolation, I had many years to think about the events that led to the fall of our Order, to learn and to grow. Though the Order was no more, I had vowed an Oath to you my Lady and remained faithful. In these long years attempts at restoring the Order were made, but they were doomed to repeat the mistakes of our forebears, the return of old Ascended sparked a fire in those who flocked to their banner but they failed to learn from history. During this resurgence I was granted the title of Sage of Ruin and was granted access to our ancient texts and histories. When this newfound Order disbanded once more like those that had come before I took what texts I could and kept them safe, for I knew that one day the knowledge kept within would be needed again.
 

I long ago vowed an Oath of Silence. To naught allow a single utterance to part my lips so that I may instead watch, listen and learn. I traveled alone, never staying in one place for long, lending my hand to those who needed it and fighting the dark where I found it and keeping the purity of the Descended Souls intact. I now know your gifts were never meant for mortal hands, was your gift a test all along? We did not need it to carry out our duty, I see this now.

Though the Descendants may not realise it, your absence is felt greatly. I have tried searching for my lost Kin but they are nowhere to be found. I fear they have long since passed on to be by your side and that we are never going to see the likes of Elvira, Ravondir or my teacher Dwalin ever again. These names are a struggle to keep within my mind, I find myself losing my grip upon them ever since I abandoned my search. It matters not however, I am single minded in my efforts to uphold my Oath and carry on the legacy I am burdened with.  I have since taken up refuge with the Children of the Lion, even they have forgotten the wars fought between them and my kind, even they have forgotten the likes of my Order and your name. I do not blame them, but it does truly make me feel like a relic, out of place in a new generation.

 

 

It shames me to say this, but despite my faith there were days I had thought you had abandoned us, never to return. I spent hours studying our ancient teachings, looking for any sign that you would return. Yet, I was left with no answers until I met a young elven man living with the Lions Flock. This was the sign I did not realise I was searching for, in my darkest hour you sent him to me with a relic to bestow upon me your blessing for but the briefest of moments. To feel your song flowing through my body once more, to feel your embrace and know that despite your absence you still watch over me from afar. It instilled me with the knowledge that I was on the right path. To think, this man who my Order had taken care of all those years ago, had fostered and raised as a child now stood as a champion of the holy trinity. At least we did one thing right.
 

Dear reader, I hope you do not mind the ramblings of an old forgotten Sage. I understand that my Lady’s song is no longer felt as presently as it once was but do know that she is there, watching over our souls from afar. My reader, though we stand assaulted on all sides, know that you may find peace and solace in your faith. Should you wish to learn of the Caretaker of Souls, my Lady Aeriel, then seek me out. Hope is not yet lost while I still draw breath.
 

-Valeria Soulheart, Sage of Ruin, Justicar of the Ascended and the Last Sage of Aeriels Chosen.

 

Spoiler

I hope you all enjoyed the read! Valeria is one of my oldest characters and I've been wanting to get her journey and thoughts documented for a while. Hopefully this can inspire those who wish to write about similar journeys and experiences their characters have taken <3

Some more reference Art of her:

 

 

[Frisket 4538]

Spoiler

Oh mah Lordy this is SOME JUICY STUFFS

 

[z3m0s 1957]

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[!] Another day came and went, the likes of which no different than the last few hundred thousand or more.

Within the darkness sat a marred dwarf, silent and unwavering in his pursuit of enlightenment, deeply concentrated in search of a tranquil state as the many priests and serfs continued their works around him, chanting echoing throughout the high halls amongst his candle lit meditation.

 

"My lord. . . A letter" a meek voice spoke, planting the scroll before the dwarf before quickly disappearing back into the darkness of the faint light.

 

[!] With a deep breath did the concentration end. An ancient grasp falling upon the scroll for a time.

"Long gone hath my service ended. . . Yet still my heart belongs to you mother, what little light remains within me bears your name. . . I only wish I could apologize for my transgressions. Blinded by my rage I lost sight of your love, I lost sight of the path. . . And still I am lost." his stony exterior cracked and broke for a time as he pondered his words, a singular tear leaking from his cold form onto the marble beneath him, unseen within the darkness. Long gone was his peace, long gone was his light, tranquility unobtainable no longer.