A Call to Lift my Pen

[simpleglitchbro 529]

 

 

High Keeper Ellenore av Eiriksdóttir,

 

In my brief time away, I have been made aware of a missive penned by you about my actions as they occurred at the Kingsmoot. Since you neglected to reach out to me personally to handle these issues, instead opting to pen up a missive that attempts to paint me in a bad light– all without acknowledging the issues at play, I am forced to respond in kind. I will speak about your letter, but beforehand, I wish to address those who still need to be informed about the situation, from the perspective of the one who was deemed a “coward” for daring to question your judgement. The letter will begin as follows, before I address your own missive.

🙞🙜

 

Spoiler

My brothers and sisters,

 

I write to you today with a heavy heart, a heavy soul. I am no longer within the walls of my very home, as I am sure you have been made aware of. Many times has the story been circulated, and as such I have heard claims from mine own kin that I am a coward, who fled in a moment of weakness due to darkened forces. Perhaps we may begin this story from its true beginning, with no details omitted. The tale is as follows:
 

It was not even an Ashen Hour I had spent recovering from a battle against a creature of the Long Dark that I staggered my way into the Hearth for the purposes of Kingsmoot. With broken bones and battered skin, bloodied clothes and a hardened resolve, I stood tall for the sake of the moot. The sake of our people. As has been elaborated by me ad nauseam, every soul within the walls contributes in essential ways to the continued growth and development of our nation. It is only because of those souls that the walls which protected us were constructed in the first place. I stood firm on my values, values which I had upheld in the many years of my service.

My opponent had not even finished his speech by the time a strange vision overtook us. While the events may be disputed by others, I am fully aware of what I saw that day. A figure descended upon us, clothed in flaming light. Every Faithful present took their kneel– even me– before this being, believing it to be our very All-Father. And yet, something was not correct about it all. As the figure spoke of the Three Tenets of our faith, it became clear to me that we were not speaking to our Father, but an impostor.

The Tenets were a gift bestowed upon us over six centuries ago, a bastion to protect us should our faith, our resolve, ever waver. Suffer not the Unworthy, Spread the Flame, and Stand against the Long Dark. I have known these words since my birth, and have begun reciting them in my sleep, restless nights spent poring over their meaning, and interpretations. Yet make no mistake, these words, throughout the centuries, have never once been changed. And as this figure descended, he spoke of Cleansing the Unworthy. A seemingly semantic difference, but one that takes on an entirely new meaning diverging from the original.

 

It was at that moment I questioned the figure, and I questioned its intentions. I spoke about the Faith, how any who knew of the Faith would be able to see through this ruse. The All-Father bids us to have faith in him, but this is not the same as blind belief. I know all too well the dangers that such a mindset entails. Yet, when I spoke up on this matter, not only was my suspicion denied, I was declared a blasphemer, a pretender, unworthy, solely for questioning such a twisted situation.

In that brief time, I became aware that neither the High Keeper nor those of my kin were able to see what I had seen, and so I rose from my seat and removed my Council medallion. They said I fled that day, that I left in a fit of anger, but the truth is the opposite. I left the walls, my very home, my very life, not out of spite or anger, but out of estrangement. No longer could I look at the sights the same, no longer could I abide by the claims I had never even fought, despite the fact that I faced their ridicule while bloody, beaten, and yet unbroken.

 

The words of my kin, and of the High Keeper, are not ones borne of malice, that much I am aware. Though their words are ignorant to the reason for my departure: too long have I seen the people I gave my life to protect be ignored, and no more. It is with these words that I state I remain firm in my decision. I am not to return, no matter how many empty seats you plan to offer me. No matter how many attempts you make to discredit me, or throw my concerns away, and write them off.

 

When I left, I left with peace. I had no desire to even speak about this matter, but it has become clear that the actions of my kin and the High Keeper have forced my hand. They are not cognizant of the issues festering within their very walls, the issues that I have spent my entire life dedicated to, and have attempted to speak to them about, only to be ignored at several turns. Letters had been going unanswered, and whatever sparse conversations were all but brief. My position felt empty, my contributions even emptier.

  My brothers and sisters, even now, I do not ask you to lead with hostility– not to me, or to those within the walls saying these claims of me. Whether they do not understand, or simply do not desire to, it is not our place to turn brother against brother. We must not inflict suffering upon all we disagree with, for after all, we are only people: flawed beings as capable of mistakes as any other. 

🙞🙜

 

High Keeper, it is within the face of such claims that I have elected to remain steadfast. Should an attempt to speak on equal terms had been made, I would have spoken my mind in kind– yet the only word I have heard from you has been a missive filled with inconsistencies, assumptions about my intentions, and in some places even falsehoods. There is no honor in words spoken as such. I hope you intend to reach out to me personally.

As the matter stands, I have no intention of returning. My decision was made by your choice of actions and inactions. Throw all you can at me, meaningless words to obscure the truth to the public combined with promises of a hollow role as you believe I am to be simply sated like a child. I have known you since I was a boy, and while I saw you as a mentor, and a friend, it has become clear you see me as nothing more than that same bright-eyed boy that I used to be. But that time has long since passed, and as I have grown into my own, you have seemed determined to dig in your heels and remain stagnant.

You claim I have insulted our kin in the walls with my leave, yet you have insulted me every step of the way. You did this by ignoring my concerns, by avoiding my letters, and by casting the people’s wishes aside. There is no greater insult than indifference, and you have consistently proven time and time again that while your prowess as a leader is evident, you remain indifferent to the suffering of your own people.

Should you wish to reclaim any of the respect I once had for you, I request you send a letter to me personally, rather than spreading misinformation about the very people you chose to ignore. You put words in my mouth, and force my hand to pen a missive in the open because you would not elect to speak to me.

 

May the Father’s ever watchful eye guide you,

 

[Aimy_lol 429]

Amethyne read through the missive and lets out a big sigh, holding her head with her hand as she shook it.

[Sparkpowder 129]

Once again, the bird slinks out of his shop. His feathers bristling together as a breeze blew through his mane, providing temporary relief to his stress. He takes a faux breath which echoed out his beak, scanning over the rather swift response piece. 
"... Not even my kin's word holds value anymore under the Highkeeper..." Julian whispers, flipping his sockets away with pitiful disappointment swelling within them.

[Cryothane 809]

"And nothing of value was lost."

A ker' notes- tossing the missive aside.

[Welkitends 44]

Kira read the missive as she took a break from walking away from Norland. She couldn't help but smile and agree with the message. 

Nothing of value to go back to.

[PestyWarlock 539]

Farian's mechanical eye scans the missive, his face wrought with exhaustion, sorrow, yet peace after his and his family's escape. "It is as Vykk stated... our Faith has become a weapon of politics. Blinded egos clutching towards affirmation from their false All-Father, regardless of truth. It is much worse than I could have possibly imagined..." The bardic author laments further, "the High Keeper will say what she wishes, but to go along with such a farce shows how deeply rooted the corruption of her Faith lies."

[ShinyB 567]

Sera Gylldene reads the missive with a growing smile. "Finally!" She speaks to no one in particular, as people are oft to do during these times. "A commendable recount. Something that makes sense."

Mylo Malto-Gylldene shakes his head in disappointment as he sets the missive aside. "To think I used to look up to her, with how easily fooled she was..." The weight of such a realization sinks in. "I pray the Faith may recover from such grievous heresies."

[winterblood 11181]

 

"A great shame it is indeed, that this one would not seek to tend to those left shaken and troubled by that harrowing vision," remarked Zofiya, most assuredly to her sworn sword as they meandered through the Norlandic forests.  She had stood as a witness to much of this manifesting turmoil within the North-East and that scholar was not one to swallow her opinions; her pride often kept her from doing so, yet it was not the sort to turn that erudite witless in speaking hot words over those truly involved.

"He has a right to his frustrations; for he saw through those illusions.  Yet his greatest folly is forgetting the duty of his blood; the means of being a true shepherd of the people.  A true leader and king." An edge crept its way into the Princess' voice, for she was certainly critical in this moment.  "To cast blame on the foolishness of those we are meant to lead is to stain your own integrity - for it highlights your own failures to rise up to the challenge in delivering them truth."

"The blood of kings runs thinly in the one named Vali."

Zofiya’s nose had wrinkled in her thoughts of that day, for she was surely embittered by the Claimant’s angered departure that led to him shoving aside observers - which left her to be shoulder-checked by that man.  Even the smallest of offenses to her was sure to lead that erudite’s good opinions of another lost.

 

[Narthok 10416]

From the veil  Thoromir would gaze down on the bickering of his innumerable descendants. After so long the realm would finally have a rightful king once more, but those who claimed his blood preferred to put pen to passive aggressive letters in the manners of elves rather than fight for what they believed in. It was always worth remembering that suffering not the unworthy begins with a reflection on the unworthiness within.