To Crumbled Stone

[wooz 439]

Spoiler

[!] A one eyed man, alone in a room would pen this letter. In private it started, a paper of cathartic release. Of sadness and pain. It finished, in front of a crumbled statue. Allowing it to be read by all Nephilim and Heralds.

 

There is a war going on in Aevos. Unsurprising, man is not man without war. It is one of the gifts of the betrayer after all. As is life, as I would say in the past. But in the sounds of far off  fire, screams, blood and the clashes of swords and ferrum I can't help but wonder; “what is it all for? For what purpose?” I am taken back to my youth, where I foolishly believed that world peace would come from some anarchistic society. I am taken back to you as well, mentor, and the lesson you gave me that day in the outskirts of Talar’nor. The path you set me on.

 

I wonder if I will ever see you again. You are stone now, crumbled and broken,  I wonder, still, if I have failed you in some way? If I did not live up enough to your expectations. But I have been taken in by another. He tells me stories of you and the history, he has taken up your mantle of teaching me in your stead. For that I am ever grateful.

 

One day, I hope that wherever you ended up you can look upon me and see me as something to be proud of. Something that you would’ve found worthy and valuable. Bodakur, I will carry your flame for eternity. I will be your memorial candle.

 

The Aurelects say: “In silence, First-Born shines between them all like light, the adversary of the fallen prince: Triumph.”  It is in these words that I find the strength that you so desperately tried to teach me while you were around. If no one else will honor your memory, then I will. I was your lone student, and forever will I respect you and the potential you saw in me and the effort you put into me. Like the Um’ei you had me ponder on, I will forever ponder on your memory until we can meet again.  

 

"Now the World was loved by good husbands and sweet wives, whom sons of timeless insight did rule lovingly. Cherishing First-Born, nations vowed themselves to him; Asioth was a golden band on their fingers. Their hearts: buoyant waters filled these red-gold vessels, and he was held with caring passion over them. First-Born’s household did grow, and he vowed to new kin; by him, they ever multiplied across the lands. 

Golden fires shone brightly on their loving hearts. First-Born rules royally these red-gold vessels: love"

 

- Median. Forever your student.

[ToddTheArchitect 187]

A KHARAJYR ENTERS the stonen room, gazing forlorn to the statue before him. The calcified Bokakur. His gaze flicks to the loose note on the ground, and with a furrow of brow and deepening of lip, the Kharajyr's expression changes to indifference.

 

"With IRE do I bid you farewell, Bodakur. A voice..." He says ambiguously, gazing up from the note to the statue. "But... bad timing." The Herald of Heralds swiftly turns a cheek to glance over his shoulder, but looks back to the statue. 

 

"Your Student has sense." He'd go on, talking to it. "There is War. And I wonder if you'll come back out when the day comes." The Kharajyr takes one knee to speak closer to the statue. "...And that day is near." The Herald of Heralds then rises back to his full height, turning his back to the statue; and leaving the Stonen room. The rattling of his equipment grows fainter as he departs.