The Silver Enclave of Len'miruel

[Animael 1500]

A high elf, Ark, forwards the mail that arrived telepathically to her, to Hadrian, just encase he missed it.

[JustMeMorgan 2065]

Acalmaehr receives the missive, realising that yes, all the Mali'aheral would in fact know one another, especially Laerean, as he would have had access to the census of over a hundred elves as well as other members of the once-people of Haelun'or: so it'd be wholly reasonable for him to send a missive to each and every one of them, Acalmaehr included. 

 

"A new home for them all, I am glad that they've managed to survive somewhere: to be displaced like this is cruel, I sure hope the Empire doesn't plan on wiping out any non-human civilisation as it seems they enjoy doing." he'd go to air out within his small hovel beside the road. "Scratch that, they wiped Vansk off the face of Aevos." he added in brief, speaking to a small portrait beside a pile of hay.

[Amuletic 926]

With wide golden eyes, Veralya Wynasul stared down the missive, her voice curling with venom as she muttered, "kae Len'miruel lye luere ernane’iyathe. ethane ito haelun’or, hiuwyeme’ehya keno ilullytn." Her composure fraying, the 'thill forced a breath through her teeth, slamming the parchment sharply onto a nearby table

"mali’ataanleh alliman maelueyae keno. naean'leh tuva'alliman maelueyae keno.

[Cheeseycereal 829]

Ciradyl looked through the pamphlet, her face shifting through a rainbow of expressions as she read through. Her eyes eased shut, a small, smug little smile dimpling at her cheeks. Till her lips puckered and her face scrunched, as if the contents of the missive had suddenly turned sour in her mouth. 

 

"Haelun'or.. what has changed about you?.." the elfess muttered, tilting her head to the side,  bewildered at the sudden change.

 

 

Spoiler

 

[_Sheylo_ 1177]

“Hrm. The brainwashed will not take kindly to this…”

His words were followed -tardily- by the faint, meek murmur of his afterimage, the soul-lag dragging a few seconds behind as it mimicked his posture: boots kicked upon the table, arms folding in cynical ease. The flickering image of himself only did well to further define the bitterness that curled within his lips.

“They may try again, of course. They typically do. But I’ve found our kind to be maddeningly resilient... like a cockroach that refuses to die, no matter how many times someone tries to crush it.”

His azure hues flicked toward the Mali’aheral that did well to brood in the corner, occupied with their taxidermy, likely to be hanging such upon the temporary wall, waving the missive in her direction @WizardWhisper- only for the translucent shade of himself, which was also that darker hue of blue in color, to repeat the same motion shortly after, hollow and delayed.

“Maehr’sae Hiylun’ehya… though it is not the course I would have taken for this..”

He raised a wooden cup brimming with a murky brownish-greenish liquid - tea, of a sort. The ghostly, dark blue afterimage of his hand lifted its own phantom cup a heartbeat later, the cruel mirroring reminding him, as always, of exactly the sacrifice he had made oh-so long ago. Simply for the survival of his people, only to be reduced to this.

The bitter Mali'aheral turned his eyes down upon the cobbled floor that was sought to only be temporary to their marble floors that they were graced with not so long ago.

"Asul linte karinah'ento..." That same cup was placed down, the haunting of himself followed shortly after as he gathered his coat and threw it around his form, "Until then. We've our own survival to worry about, be it through manipulation or otherwise..”

 

[Ferd0207 204]

The gaunt Elf had received the missive some hours ago by a loyal messenger. He had not yet bothered to read it, for he was on the run, and yet finally did he open it, blood-stained fingers dirtying the small pamphlet. 

He opened it, golden eyes scanning the contents hidden therein. His lips extended, briefly, into a bare ghost of a smile. Without a word, the letter was then folded, stashed into a pocket in his coat.

Then did he return to the head that he was carrying with himself, bloodied still from the brutal decapitation that had taken place. "I wonder, Valah, will they recognize your body once they find it ?" Spoke he before kicking the thing in the grass, carrying on his tread across the forest.