[PK] LYUER

[PolarLoLs 984]

 

 

 

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄❀┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“...”

 

‘Twas only recently did she think about it, where she stood among the chains of fate.

She never nor asked for an identity, Lyuer- even her name meant nay ‘mongst her kin

 

❀⊱⊰❀⊱⊰❀

“A vow does not mean you cannot heal” 

“....”

“Maybe the pen is mightier than the sword!”

“....”
“We can speak together if you’d like

“....”
“Giving up is truly when you’ve failed”
“....”

“She was brought here by fate”

“....”

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Each word, every sentence, every conversation, every interaction made her feel bigger.

To stand tall ‘mongst those pillared by confidence- she was merely an ant getting by them.

 

Only recently did she dream dreams of her own, finally able to sleep and wake with 

expectations of her own, purpose to fulfil and goals to achieve.

 

Finally did she have friends to meet, look for them among crowds

Their voices were warm, bringing something fuzzy to drown the inner thoughts that cannibalized her own mind.

 

She wouldn’t blame them if they got frustrated or avoided her, far too self aware for her own good, yet they tried their best to shatter the chains ‘pon her soul, peal the seals from her tongue- it would work, for a while.

Their words would become hands, hands upon her back to lift her when she’d stumble

 

Her severance from the mortal plane was premature, there were no wills nor letters to send out- 

However she wrote lots and lots. Two things she valued as much as her life, her moth companion and her dear Journal.

 

OOC: The following must be learned IC

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Lorinthia  - She’s nice and pretty and a good listener. I've never had siblings but she always felt like an older sister, someone I can relate to (somehow). I wake up every day looking forward to speaking with her. I just hope i end up as happy as her and I hope Ellathor makes her happy, i would love to attend that dance with someone too.. She’s my first and best friend..

 

Morwenna - She reminds me of my mother, although she is a foggy memory i would like to be a part of her family though i’m probably too old for that.. Her and Mahte are cute, she’ll probably take good care of him and he to her. Maybe i’ll dye my hair like hers too to see if  I can pull off her look.

 

Osar - Sometimes he speaks and it sounds like gibberish, though i know he’s saying something i just can’t understand it. He’ll make a good teacher, like a grandpa i can’t wait to learn more about him and his studies, i’ll write more about him the more i learn about him

 

Son -  He said he doesn’t have a name, I don't believe him-. But I do trust him, his eyes are like mine and I can't wait to learn more about him and the absolute, they make me feel so welcome, like I have a purpose. I've never found myself so close to claiming loyalty to a faith- i’ll have to learn more.

 

Feanor - He’s interesting, he loves moths a lot. I like moths too, he probably brainwashed me. He gave me something I can't value with words even if I could speak. Not any amount of thanks could show how grateful i am. He’s like a soft scary dad if I had to put it to words.

 

Iulius - Like Lorin i think he’s a good listener, He’s kind of scary in a sense, i did watch him beat a man in a ‘spar’ or whatever it was. He never took his helmet off so i wondered what he looked like, if i had to imagine maybe a blonde with a bunch of scars.

 

Leithril - She’s scary, I'll have to ask her to show me a few of her tricks and moves. She raised Mahte so she must be strong. I can imagine she beat him quite a lot when he was younger or maybe even now.. I hope she’ll notice me enough to go ‘she has potential’ or something..

 

Ambros - He’s sweet, very nice and patient. I hope he’ll enjoy our sign language classes we’re gonna have soon. Maybe i’ll be brave enough to ask him about his past or something, maybe a̴̳҇̔̈͢s̶̡̛̖̑̿k̵̬̜̂͢͝ ḧ̴̢̟͝i҈̧̰̃͑͌̕m̸̤͐̾͜͝ o̸̥͉̯҇̾̅̓͢ư̷̧̮̣̣̂t̵̡̠̪̏̋̽͝ t҉̤̌̌͢͠ͅő̶͚͈͢͠ ḑ̶̫̘̅͡i̷̢͖̱͎͊̾̿͝n҈̢͍͈̫҇͂̋n̷̢̤̱͗͐͡ę̶͖̙̘̌̄̒͝ŕ̶̟̙͐͜͝ͅ ǒ̸͍̋͑͢͝r҈̡͔͂͝ s҉͚̱҇̀̍̔͢o̷̢̟̮̾̄͠m̶̨̛͔͚͑͐͋ḛ̵̢̜͙̇͡t̶̤̝̦̿͜͞h̵̡̭̪̐̇̀͞i̵̧̝̪̩̐̽͝n̴̨͎̲͉̅͞ģ̷̛͎̒̃̉ and
 

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The journal did exist, some texts were clearly unfinished and more were due to come, however they would never be

Potential is what she was and potential is what she’ll ever be..

 

 

 

[Turbo_Dog 3567]

Spoiler

Opps done got her mid sentence <\3

 

[sarahbarah 7105]

“THERE MUST BE SOMETHING SACRED IN SALT. IT IS IN OUR TEARS AND THE SEA.”
 

MORWENNA cradled a few petals in her palm, letting them scatter into the ebbing stream in the wake of Lyuer’s demise. The water carried them away gently – an offering, a farewell, a promise to always remember their brief but fond interactions. Though grief pulsed in her chest, her conscience remained unshaken; she knew her innocence as surely as she knew the tide’s pull.

 

A friend unjustly slain could never be forgotten. And the crazed look in the prince’s eyes – the wild fury that had stolen a life so precious – was something she knew she would carry with her always.

 

Yet still, she stood at the riverbank, steady as the shoreline, refusing to let the memory of Lyuer slip beneath the current. She never would.
 

[Chuuwys 502]

The thoughts of what occurred that day roil in the elf's mind, stuck between sleep and wakefulness through the numbing effects of blissfoil beginning to wane from her system. The ache of cracked bone haunts her chances at rest. A hasty but foolish escape made to warn the others of what may come for them too.

 

For what few moments she knew of the woman, at the very least, she knew there was no way some tome appreciating person with no ability for speech and nary a history of evil could ever be considered any less than an innocent taken in cold, heartless killing. To be stolen away by those whose hands were never meant to intervene but continue on with impunity regardless. That blood over a man's face - nay that of a man but that of some rabid beast.

 

She dreads what comes next. If martyrdom is the flare, or if stoic grief should take its place instead. Whichever one, she knows that she refuses to let the abuses of that day continue going forward. She will not sit while her people, wherever they live or whoever their heritage, face the ferrum of those that never intended to spare them to begin with.

[Hiccup392 724]

The scary one sat within the Sunlit Sanctum, cradling the woman her son loved so dearly. One who fought for the murdered, one who kicked and screamed to save a youth so innocent - a sacred being if one were to consider the curse of Malin's kind. The woman who wept, and wept, and cradled her injuries from that attempt to do what no other elf nor man dared to.
It was a story told time and time again, the slaughtering hand of man so desperate to gnash their teeth and whine for control over the life of another.

Safety had to be found in the grasp of another, rather than their home. It had been that way for many, many years - yet it had taken such an act for others to see the truth. No longer could they walk the streets without wondering if they may be caught unawares and slaughtered - not by the shadow, but by their cousins of Horen. A lesson this supposedly scary woman imparted one-by-one unto the innocent and guilty alike, as blood stained their muddied forests and cobbled pathways. 

[Unwillingly 18096]

Galahad often considered the dichotomy between heart and crown. With such pity did he toil on sleepless nights of it, that it left him all but dead on his feet and addled in the eyes by the next day. 

He had only shared company with Lyuer once. She had merely whisked a parchment his way and mustered little from tongue, and he looked upon her all the more tender for it. Though insignificant to him at the time, the pleasantries of the gentry and prattlings of the day-to-day, hindsight now tells him it was anything but.

How callous, this Malin Prince.

[Holyland 3650]

A Place-without-Name twitched, and a fragment of Caucasian skin flaked off with it, gathering as gravel in the runnels of flesh.

Alabaster shined beneath.

 

Hallowed fingers formed the words he'd taught her, stiff and languid at once.

"Truth Shines"

they'd said. 

 

Her grave would shine,

sun unto sepulchre,

even as her silent spirit began a lifetime anew. 

 

He would see her again.

 

[Animael 1500]

It was not fury, that Ark had seen as she followed the prince to Caurost to deliver his gift. It was not anger or even a feigned reason of justice in his gaze. No, he had quickly moved past the idea of constructing a plausible excuse. It was just glee, behind those pupils. True content enjoyment. The same that she had begun to see brewing behind the eyes of his children.

[SwampWitchIRL 69]

Lorinthia collapsed to the floor of her home, her form curling over the small plush moth. Her shoulders trembled, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath as sobs tore from her throat 

 

"Shes... gone" she would whisper, her voice breaking as she struggled to think clearly. Her hands trembled, curling around the moth as she cried out into the emptiness

 

Memories flashed into her mind, abrupt and cruel. The laughter they'd shared earlier that morning, Lyuer saving her life from a Gryphon, and the pure joy that ha radiated off of her when she'd revealed to her she was learning sign language - All stolen away. Her throat tightened as she faced the reality that she would never see her again.

 

"Why... Why?" she would gasp between sobs. Each repetition like that of a knife to her heart. She felt hollow, helpless, and consumed by guilt that she hadn't been able to protect her.

 

Her eyes narrowed onto the moth, the only remaining connection to Lyuer she had left. She couldn't stop the tears, she couldn't stop the trembling. She could only sob and whisper, over and over, broken and desperate: "I'm sorry..."