THE END OF CELIA'NOR

[XoxoMinnieXoxo 784]

 

 

 

Published; 227S.A

 

“ilMaehr'sae Ilkun'ehya”

☽ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ✯ ⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ ☾ 

 

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To the faithful, to the sovereign thrones of Aevos, and to the stars that once bore witness to our glory,

Let this be recorded in ink and memory alike… for it is ne with pride, but with sorrowful heart and clarity of duty, that I, Iryne Ibarellan, last reigning Princess and ROYARCH of Celia’nor, deliver this final decree.

The War of Aevos has scorched our earth and stained our hopes. Kingdoms rise and fall, but there are some wounds too deep to close. Celia’nor, the dream once forged from ash and starlight, has found its end. Ne in a single battle, nor a swift blow, but through a long and withering collapse of betrayal, of loss, and of silence in the face of suffering.

We endured for as long as fate would allow. We fought to shield our people, to honor the vows of old, and to preserve the legacy carved by our founders. Yet in the end, we could ne shield all. The lands lie bloodied. The walls echo with mourning. And there is ne future left beneath this banner.

Therefore, I hereby surrender the lands Principality of Celia’nor in full to the Principality of Caurost, to be governed, sanctified, or reforged as they deem fit. From this day forth, Celia’nor shall cease to exist. Its name forever dissolved. It shall ne be reclaimed. It shall ne be invoked. The land of the phoenix shall soar ne more.

This surrender is final, and it is given ne in fear, but in preservation. Ne longer shall our people suffer beneath the weight of ideals shattered and thrones crumbled. Let them live without the burden of war, free to mourn and to rebuild elsewhere in peace. The lands once under our rule are now property of the Principality of Caurost, and their future lies in the hands of those who will raise them anew.

Furthermore, and with the heaviest of hearts, I declare:
In light of the violence, the treachery, and the shameful desecration of all we once held sacred, all born or wed after myself within the main line of the Ibarellan talonnii shall be stripped of the name to ensure its sanctity. The bloodline, as it pertains to its royal bearing, ends here. None shall falsely claim the Ibarellan name nor the titles once tied to it. Those who dare speak it in deceit or title shall be considered forgers of legacy and desecrators of the truth. Let ne false crowns rise from ash.

I ask only this: that the people of Celia’nor be treated with dignity. Let them remain if they so choose. Let them depart without chains should they desire peace elsewhere. Let ne more harm come to those who have already endured far too much.

Let this be the last breath of a realm once proud, once radiant, now laid to rest. Ne in disgrace, but in remembrance. Celia’nor shall live on only in the quiet hearts of those who knew her… and it is there she shall remain, undisturbed, eternal in only memory.

Van’ayla, Celia’nor.
And may the stars guide you… into peace, into silence, into rest.

✵

 

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AY’PUERAN;

Her Excellency, the Honourable Princess Royarch, Iryne Ibarellan, The Last Princess of Leyu’sil, Patroness of the Arts, Guardian of the Celestial Realm, and lineal descendant of the Silver Phoenix, of the Principality of Celia'nor

 

Signed,

Galahad Ilumrin

High Prince of Caurost

 

 

[Moping 542]

Illthrak Ibarellan the Previous Royarch of Celia'nor read the missive and smiled, His obligation was dead, His people gone, The time of a great nation has past, All is meant to pass, Including this.

[kuebiko 684]

COWARDICE.

A devil scoffs as a piece of paper tells him of world politics. Of just how desperate Celia'nor was to abandon everything, to the point of self-immolation. The single word speaking of fear matched the same sky that no longer shone. A piece of paper, could not convince him otherwise. For the devil too held a frightened heart that burdened his chest. 

And yet, a false prince could not fight the interest - the fascination, in a crown forged from debris and falsities. That was a warlock's true nature, wasn't it? To indulge in royalty. There would be no peaceful death for a place worthy of a symphony of chaos. An artist's hands demanded to paint a picture that could only be captured once in a lifetime with ashen skies that blotted out every sliver of light from their sky. 

 

That was the grace befit for the starlit city. 

[Treshure 5817]

Elwë of the Erendhrim worked in the fields beneath Lemongrass Hill, adorning the dead of war and searching for the trammels of battle. When word had reached of the dissolution of Celia'nor, he had sat down - gazing down the valley and a setting sun, awash in thought for the crumbling of yet another Elven land. To what ends would his kin roam, embroiled in the affairs of mortals and beheld to their suffering? He had no answer in thought, and his heart pained long after his mind moved elsewhere.