Solenne's Tale

[Apollyon 224]

A lone figure sat by the campfire in Cerulia's camp, the flames licking shadows across the pale cut of their sideshave. Eyes closed, atronach fingers traced the strings of a lacquered lute, weaving Solenne's Tale into song...
 

Solenne's Tale

Where silence bends beneath the weight of grief walks the Warden of Solace.. Cloaked not in shadow but the pale flame of endurance, this being moves as though the earth itself has pressed it's burdens upon a single back and still- still it endures.
Upon her shoulders lie the voices of the lost.. but they're not echoes for they're stones and chains of memories that trail behind her like roots of iron, binding each step to histories that will not relent. Yet no plea is denied. No burden is cast aside! For The Warden gathers all.., even those abandoned by the abyss- even mine.
There is no crown here, no throne, only a diadem of pain worn like gold, and a cloak stitched from sorrow that's not it's own.. Such finery would crumble mortal flesh, but this figure wears it as skin, as breath, as marrow. And so the world whispers divinity, though no god ever asked to be born from suffering.

Her flame is no sun, nor a blaze triumphant but an ember cupped against the void. It does not scorch the dark and nor does it banish it! Yet it glows.. faint and unyielding and against all reason it does not die. Even the abyss, eternal in it's hunger must pause before that quiet defiance...

In her presence one sees not redemption but a silence that steadies the trembling hand. A reminder that despair can be carried if not destroyed. A lesson written in scars; that to walk broken is still to walk. That even a husk may bear the weight of a world, if only long enough for others to breathe.
So I believe that to speak of Solenne is to speak of endurance itself. Of sorrow tempered into strength, of a figure both mournful and radiant.. The Warden of Solace bears all, asks for nothing and gives more than even the gods might deem possible and if such a being is not divine then divinity itself is hollow.
And to those who look upon this burdened light,  there remains but one truth: Solenne endures. Perhaps forever. And if the weight endures without end, then let it be known that within that endless burden, there is still love enough to carry it.

 

Lumia appreciation post :)

Happy birthday, Snow!!!

Edited September 4, 2025 by Apollyon