The Foxtrap [PK]

[Junoix 2301]

 

Maybe This Time

 

 

 

Years of wandering, years of solitude. She had told everyone to write to her if she were needed, but of course no one did. No one but her elder sister that is. It was saddening, but also comfortable. No one to yell at her, to accuse her or slander her. She had learned decades ago that only in solitude could she not be hurt, even if it was what she dreaded most. It was a valiant effort, she thought to herself as she trekked through the wilderness. If only for a moment, I had a taste of acceptance. I should be content with that. But she wasn’t, truthfully; oh how hard she worked to be a Matriarch, only to once again be hated by the very people she wished would love her. 

 

The flowers that once littered her hair had now dwindled to a few small blossoms, most of her crimson curls now overtaken with ivy and thorns. Her whole body was wrapped in the painful vines, sometimes pricking her as she walked; she was overgrown, but she paid it no mind. Nature seemed to prefer her this way, and in the end, that was all the acceptance she truly had. In a wondrous alpine she found herself now, a skulk of vulpines at her heels. I must be content, this is fine, is all I need. Such was her mantra until finally, one of her beloved foxes brought her a letter. She opened it more eagerly than she cared to admit to herself, and could hardly stomach the brief spark of glee upon reading a familiar title, upon seeing that she was needed.

 

“Grandmaster Fox!”

 

Those words were what led her to that dank swamp, trudging through dark waters to reach the meeting spot the letter stated. Only, when she arrived, there was no smiling monkey-boy to greet her. No, what awaited her was a betrayal not even she had experienced before. How many people had turned on her, and yet it all was but a raindrop in comparison to the storm which awaited her. There stood a congregation of demons covered in viscera, and armored figures clothed in red, standing around a circle of drawn runes in blood. However, it was he who stood in the center that made her stomach turn.

 

“Ah, Sister. I knew you would heed my call. I am sorry for the trickery but I had assumed you might have been informed of my deeds. Come.”

 

“With you now here we can complete what I’ve set out to do.”

 

This isn’t right. What does he mean? Trickery? What it was he had done, she had not been informed. But one of the armored figures called to her in a tone so familiar and joyous; a sister from long ago. It was enough to cause her hand to instinctively twitch towards her brother of centuries, but then her trance was broken. A jostle of chains, and Sonna looked over the Thulean’s shoulder. There was her monkey-boy, though he held no smile. Only flickering, hollow eyes, blood staining his restricted and strung form. It all clicked at once. 

 

“You sent the letter. What are you thinking? What the nearby Grove deserves? They are our siblings, Asger!”

 

A name she had not called him by in so long, but she had hoped it would bring back the elf she knew in Siramenor: a grumpy ‘ame who still had a heart, who was a father raising his children. 

 

“What do you hope to accomplish in doing this? To become the lowest of the low?”

 

“Siblings? They have failed to showcase such a thing in years. I know it as well as you.”

 

In a way, he was right, Sonna knew it all too well. She knew the pain of rejection, the sting of slander, and the ache of loneliness. So divided were the children of the Aspects, throwing blame and insult against each other like stones. 

 

“I mean to prove that they are no better than us. They treat us as disposable waste. From the Dragaar down to the lowest child of the Aspects, they spit on us, command us! No more, sister.”

 

He had tripped up in his speech, had failed to understand a core concept that his dear sister truly believed in; that her owlish mentor had drilled into her long. No Druid is better than another. A hand drifted to the enlarged fang by her side, the very one her father and patron had given to her from his own maw. The crack within shimmered with faint golden light, the chittering of foxes only growing louder as she grasped the tooth.

 

“You wish to slaughter our kin and corrupt our Gods for what? Prove a point? To soothe your own damaged pride and ego? I will not aid you in ruining yourself. Please, Asger, do not do this to yourself.”

 

Her brother was always selfish, this she knew well. Perhaps appealing to such, convincing him of the harm he would bring upon him, could be enough to turn him away from this wretched path. If only she knew that he had already taken the first steps; of the carnage he had already wrought. I can do this. The Fox steeled her heart, should he refuse. With the fang of Sonnos, with such reminding her of her duty to her children and people, she could fight her elder brother. She could shift and run to go get others, to save the monkey-boy from his chains. She was ready, but a desperate whisper broke her concentration.

 

“You must help … There is no other way.”

 

She knew that voice, the thunder of a delicate storm barely strained behind it. No mother could ever forget the song of their own daughter. It was enough to catch Sonna off her guard, for the slippery Fox to suddenly become frozen in her steps. It was only a second of shock, and that was all the Spore needed to make his move. The foxtrap was expertly sprung, only the Matriarch realized too late. 

 

“Grandmaster Fox! Run! Get away from here!”
 

It was too late, for as soon as the monkey-boy cried out, Sonna felt a sting like no other. Asger was too quick for the spiraling Sonna, and it was all too easy to grab the fang from the mother’s hand to then pierce her stomach with maddening force. Her midsection, the womb in which she had carried the very daughter who screamed out now. The ilmyumier of a bear’s paw was torn along with her flesh, the  mark of Bolomormaa now naught but viscera and sorrow. Blood trickled down her legs as she struggled to stay on her feet, falling into the arms of her kin and murderer. 

 

“I do not need you alive for this sister. The others have already ruined any other path for me. This is the end one way or another.”

 

There were screams and struggling from her child and the chained, oh how she hoped they wouldn’t be harmed for doing so. Sonna coughed and sputtered thick ichor as she was dragged into that circle, laid within its very center with a tenderness that sickened her. She mustered whatever strength she could, first looking to the monkey-boy who had always treated her with reverence.

 

“Shh … I-It’s ok.”

 

The Fox retained control of her muscles just long enough to then turn her head towards the struggling armored figure, now being held back by another. She retained her hearing just long enough to sob at the crying of a slain cub; substantial feeling so that the bear’s fur warmed her skin as it was dropped beside her. But none of that mattered as she looked at the masked girl, and even within such wretched armor, she knew the lightning that crackled within it. My youngest daughter, my precious gem. Váyan, my powerful storm. In her final moments, despite the horror of it all, Sonna could think of nothing but the love she held for her children; the motherly instinct to reach towards her troubled child. But her limbs no longer held blood, and her breath became more difficult by the minute. Her maw was overflowing with ichor, and with a final desperation she called to her baby.

 

“I love you. I forgive you.
 

The scream of the slain cub echoed louder within her head, the pain of her carnage and the roar of an angry mother drowning out all other senses. Greener and foggy did the world grow, until all she was left with were the passing images  of memories.

 

 

Sun Bleached Flies

 

It started with the neglected child who ran wild in the woods, blooming into the curious dedicant eager to learn everything there was about the world. Eventually she grew into the sapling Druid who kept exploring, even after kidnap and torture; who hunted monsters with other misfits on Arcas and took in orphan after orphan to nurse and heal. 

 

The elf grew into a vulpine Druid, who helped the King of Norland escape the armies of Oren. Who fought beside the paladins of Last Light Camp against the hordes of Inferi, and served her new-found mother as fellow Chieftess of the Sirame. Who served her people as Naelu’ir of Siramenor, healed them as a Springmaiden of the Clinic, and led them in prayer as High Priestess of the Wild Faith. Who awakened the slumbering green Dragaar, and continued to fight against all odds. Who earned the dragon’s respect and trust with an Aspect Stone that was kept from her. Who held her first friend in her arms as he bled out from a Scyfling’s arrow, and birthed her first two children with a man who would eventually disappear.

 

She became a force to be reckoned with as the Red Bastard of the Sylvaeri, then the Chieftess of her own family, the Vulnrith; Who continued to serve despite the difficulties as Head of Faith in Elvenesse. Who spread the teachings of both the Ichorian and Sage Way as its Heralds, and birthed another two children to a man who would be fatally ripped from her arms by a voidal disaster. Who served a century of forced isolation after she made enemies with too powerful of people; after she spoke out against their hypocrisy and cruelty. She nearly lost herself in those lonely years, but somehow kept going despite the many voices and lies keeping her down. 

 

She grew into a wise Elder who overcame the slander thrown her way, who was able to soothe some of the scars of violent division. She served and served as Keeper of the Glade of Hileia, ensuring all the dead were remembered and that truth was kept straight; as Archdruid of the Druidic Order working tirelessly to mend the rift created so long ago and join the Druids together once more in efforts to support Nature. She finally completed her greatest mission in awakening the Staff of Malin, unlocking the abilities of the first ever Elder Tree for her people to use in the centuries to come. She found love a third time, and bore three children who filled her heart with such joy and hope. She taught student after student, and found purpose in each one who succeeded. 

 

However, it was as the Viridian Voice of Nevaehlen and Eliheuihii of Iryalen where things became dark again; a cruel Natural Cycle of her own. Even as some honored her as Matriarch of the Mali’ame, there were still serpents in the shadows who continued to allow hatred to fuel their hearts. It wasn’t long before the crown of leadership attracted blame undeserved once more, and the Fox was forced to leave again. If they need me they will call on me, except they never did. 

 

She had failed.
 

This slow realization was all she felt as her soul made an unusually turbulent journey through the stream all dead must travel, jerking from left to right before finding herself amidst shrill screeching and wrathful roars. All manner of beast ran amuck as blighted, bile spewing bears chased after them, charging blinding in pain at the newly arrived soul; That was until a swirl of fallen leaves whisked her away to somewhere else. 

 

I have failed.

 

It was her only thought as she landed within a valley of serene beauty, surrounded by crashing waterfalls and lush abundance. She clutched at her womb which still bled even in her eternal rest, sobbed at the black blood which oozed from her mark; proof of my failure. Agony and sorrow shook her, almost too much to bear, until she looked down the path before. The figure in the distance caused her to crawl, stumble, and then limp towards them, her shame almost enough to force her back down; It was only her respect for the figure that kept her going. She expected rage and disappointment, disgust and disregard. Perhaps even hated for failing to accomplish what any worthy Matriarch would have been able to. But no, such was not to be for the fallen Fox, even as she sobbed her apologies and regrets for her own weakness.

 

Such was not to be, as a verdant hand of kindness and acceptance welcomed her into her greatest duty yet. After all, there was always work to be done, and she could not rest yet. Not while she still bled. 

 

 

[!] A few days after the death of Sonna Vulnrith, foxes wearing golden circlets would travel across the realm, delivering letters and parcels alike to their recipients. Every note would be sealed with golden wax  portraying a sitting fox, leaves of sage and blossoms of fairy foxglove stuck beneath the stamp. Only those who receive these letters, as denoted by who the letter is addressed to, will have knowledge of their words and the items delivered. 

Please do not metagame.

 

Sulcelia Mayan Vulnrith | @glassyskies

Spoiler

My starlight, my fierce warrior. I want you to know how proud I am of you, that you are my pride and joy. I have watched you grow over the years, how you pulled yourself out of the deepest pit of despair after your father’s passing. You are stronger than you know, stronger than me, and it is to you I trust the future of the Vulnrith and my legacy. In my passing, I name you Chieftess of the Vulnrith, and leave to you the associated relics to look after. However, I also wish for you to take my totem, as you originally took your father’s upon your attunement. You are worthy of carrying the moniker of Sonnos, and I entrust you to carry it until you name your own successor. Do not let the Vulnrith die, and I will wait every day until I get to see you again. I love you always, my sweet girl. 

 

Laurië Vulnrith | @Spoopy_Duck

Spoiler

My firefly, my only son. I want you to know that I will never hold dismay for you over your chosen path. It saddens me of course that I will never spend eternity with you, but even so, my love for you will never diminish in the eons. I think of you everyday, and will continue to keep you alive in my heart for all eternity. I admire your courage and good nature more than I can put into words, and know that you’ll do great things in the years to come. While you will not be able to fully access the abilities of what I left to you as a Templar, I think you will find one ability open and useful to you. I task you with holding this precious piece of me, until you find a Druid worthy of such, and are comfortable passing with my presence. I also leave you with the ring your father proposed to me with, so that you may pass it on to your own mayilun one day. I love you my drop of sunlight, and always will. 

 

Váyan Vulnrith | @Phersades

Spoiler

My storm, my sweet girl. I know you have struggled and still are struggling, and that the way forward seems shadowed and unsure right now. Such is the reality of life my dear, but I know that you have the capabilities to sail through even the most turbulent of waves. You are too strong-willed to give up, as I was at your age, and it is this determination that will see you through your darkest days. Know that I am proud of you always, and that despite our quarrels, I will never love you any less. I am entrusting to you a relic that my mentor left to me around your age, when I had a hard time maintaining peace within myself. I hope that she helps you find your inner tranquility, and that you keep her safe until you pass it on to the next. I love you Váyan, and I’ll be waiting for you.

 

Aurelion Vulnrith | @Deer__

Spoiler

My dearest love. You found me after two husbands, when I had been exiled from all who I had once held dear, and lost so much. You found me at a time when I hardly believed in myself anymore, when I was clouded by rage and regret; and yet, you found the joy and hope locked within my heart. You taught me how to love and trust again, and gifted me with the three most wonderful children I could ask for. I am so proud of what we raised together, and love you more than I can put into words; more grateful for you that I can write here. I will have to tell you in person when we are reunited again. Until then, take care of the children for me. My leyuan, my mayilun, ceru’leh.

 

Arle Sirame-Vulnrith | @craneia

Spoiler

My magnolia, my blossoming flower. You are growing into a leader in your own right, and can’t think of anyone who better exemplifies my haelun’s family. You are a Sirame through and through, and if haelun could see you now, I know she would be infinitely proud of you, as I am. I curse myself everyday for the pain Amaesil caused you, and wish I had taught him to be a better man. I can only hope that the love I feel for you is enough to wash that agony from your heart. You are such a wonderful daughter and elder sister to your siblings. I know you will take good care of them in passing, and of what I have left to you. I also ask you to trust Traskaath with the rest of the druidic gifts, and I do mean all of them. He is worthy of all our secrets, and I hope you are able to bond with him as I have. Keep going, Arle, my lovely magnolia. 

 

Laltyl Arvellon-Vulnrith | @JuztLizzy

Spoiler

My little tigress. Wherever you are, I hope you are doing well my suika. I know that life has not been kindest to you, and that a deep melancholy plagues your heart. But I want you to know that I have been in your shoes, have walked your path, and that it does get better. Keep fighting my tigress, and you will find what you have always wanted. I love you.

 

Idril Sylvaeri | @JJosey

Spoiler

Elder sister, my sweet divinity. I had never known the love and care of an older sister before you, never had someone so loyal and true to me as you were. After we made up, my life became so much brighter with you in it, and even when all turned away from me, you never left my side. I am so happy you decided to become a Druid, and will look forward every day till we are reunited; till the day we can gossip and braid each other's hair once more. I love you, big sister. Thank you for everything.

 

Feanor Sylvaeri | @Wand

Spoiler

Elder brother, my first idol. Even before we found out we were related by blood, you always treated me as a little sister; a bond that already came naturally to us. I looked up to you then and still do now, how strongly you were able to lead and bear the weight of a nation upon your unbuckling shoulders. I wish I was as strong and capable as you were, but such is the dream of every little sister. Thank you for being my big brother.

 

Traskaath D’hrolo | @DankuzMemuz

Spoiler

My greatest friend, like one I never had. You stood beside me despite it all. When my decisions in leadership were questioned or my name was slandered, you still believed in me and my story, and supported me through it all. I truly wonder what it is I did to deserve such a hard working student, loyal friend, and loving brother. You are the future of the Druids in my eyes, and I know that together with Arle and Sulcelia, you will do great things for Nature and the Order. I am entrusting to you my most prized possession, as I do believe you are the best fit for it. Keep it with you as much as possible, and protect it with all your strength and life. I will see you again, my dearest friend. Continue to make me proud. I love you.

 

Caius Prisgoth | @Tav

Spoiler

You walk a troubled path, malii’malonn, and I know that the others have not helped. You do not have to be what they say you are, however, and I hope that one day you are able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Or, at the very least, your own version of that light. Find happiness, Caius. That is all I really hope for you. 

 

Chaosheng | @NightOfTheWind

Spoiler

You are a good Druid, Chaosheng, despite your lack of gifts. You may even be a better druid than most other attuned. I know that they can be mean to you sometimes, and ungrateful of all you do for us. But I see what you do, and I am thankful for it. I hope you stay with the druids still, for I know they will need you in the days to come. Thank you for everything, Chaosheng. I will never forget you.

 

Revian Winterleaf | @NightcastorKitty

Spoiler

Thank you for being kind to me when no one else was, during my days in exile. You saw the damaged beast I was, and helped pull me out of my deepest despair. If it weren’t for you, I may have never been able to find my way out of the dark, and I can think of no one better to be Keeper of the Glade of Hileia. Please continue the work for me, and ensure that no dead or memory goes forgotten. I love you, lari’onn.

Naeri Sonnos’ii Vulnrith | @Kholibrii

Spoiler

Wherever you are my little bramble, I hope you are enjoying your time in the wilds. I want you to know that I think of you always, and look forward to the day I see you again. Come visit your siblings once in a while, my first child. I am sure your younger siblings would love to see you, as I will one day. Stay wild, Naeri Sonnos’ii.

 

Ophelia Bol’maa Vulnrith | @BlueBudgie

Spoiler

I know not wherever you live, my precious girl, but if you do then there is something I must share to you about your heritage. Please know I only kept this information to protect you, as you were born during a time when your life as a half-elf was directly threatened. You are the illegitimate daughter of Cullas Sylvaeri, and he brought you to me battered and barely alive when you were just a day old. I claimed you as my own in order to protect your true father along with your own life, and hope you will understand in time why this was necessary. Know that I never loved you less than other of my other children regardless, and neither did Zolvan. You are my true daughter still, Ophelia Bol’maa, and I love you so.

 

Faen Vulnrith | @exanimated

Spoiler

I know not whether you still live after the fall of your God, but if you do, know that I am sorry for the fight we had. I never liked the paladins for their interference in Nature's affairs, and wanted you to be a Druid so that I would not ever have to live an eternity without you. Despite your choices, I never loved you less, and I never stopped missing you, my son.

 

Briala Sirame-Vulnrith | @FenHarel

Spoiler

I hope your expeditions are going well, my snowdrop, and do not wish for this letter to distract you from your soul-searching. I just want you to know how much I love you and think of you always, and that I look forward to the day I see you again. My leyuan.

 

Seraphina Vulnrith-Prisgoth | @Endaaron

Spoiler

I miss you more than words can say, lari’onn. It wasn’t long before it was just you and me, and tragedy ripped the ducklings apart. But before that happened, spending my days with you, Renae, Becclain, Syllia, and Morean were some of the best I’ve ever had. One day, we will all make trouble together again. I love you Seraphina, see you soon.

 

Suliin’yuln | @Chuuwys

Spoiler

Suika. I know not what has caused the rift between us, but I hope that whatever it is does not stop you from continuing to grow as you have been. I see such potential in you, and hope that one day you are able to return into Sonnos’ fold. If not, then so be it. We all must forge our own paths. Goodluck, vuln’ii, and know that I was never disappointed in you despite it all. 

 

Asger Nria | @RaiderBlue

Spoiler

Brother, Asger. This world has not always been kind to you, and I know hatred has had centuries to grow in your heart. You have seen such horrors over the years, suffered such unkindness, and I can see the weight of age and disdain strengthening in your eyes. I beg of you to not let it overtake the goodness you still hold within your soul. I remember Asger Nria, who broke free from evil once and who loved his children; the man who raised them in Siramenor and occasionally smiled with me. I hope you are able to be that man again one day, The Prince of Rosenyr who drank wine and laughed. 

 

The Emperor of Mankind | @Werew0lf

Spoiler

If you are receiving this, that means I have passed on. Remember your karma, Emperor.

 

Thank you all who took part in the story of Sonna Vulnrith. A message to the community will follow in the days to come.

[craneia 232]

 

The weight was not felt as the words of Last Rite left her lips. Nor as she watched the Elder tree take her mother, reclaim her. Nothing was felt, the numbness having taken root, a firm and unyielding grasp on her very soul, the minute the monkey spirit had returned Sonna’s battered body. 

How could she? 

How could she let herself fall apart, when someone sturdy and steady was needed, now, for her beloved foxes. No, her own pain could wait. She would not break before them. Among them, it was only her, who was Emerald, after all.

Endure.

 

‘Well done, my flower.’ Spoke the elder druid, always tender with her children, as a nervous young ‘ame concluded the story of her grand task - nearly a century gone. She expected for her guide to be furious with her, to refuse her. But Sonna only welcomed her back with safe, open arms, claiming her as one of her own. 

 

‘My flower.’ 

 

Her’s. 

 

Her flower. She was had, held, cherished. None of Sonna’s lovers were ever taken by that young Sirame, as a father figure. One was never needed - for the love of her mother… her haelun. was all she needed. For the Fox’s blood did not course through her veins, but her spirit was intertwined with her own. There was never a doubt that her mother loved her, even if it was not blood that bound them. For love like that transcended flesh, bone, blood. 

When it came time for her own little fox to enter this world, she was given the name that the Vulnrith Matriarch had not been known by for some time; Mavis.

Not born as a scorned red bastard, but as a beloved girl just as deserving of love as her namesake. But she had failed her little fox, as she now has failed as a daughter, a sister, a druid. She felt the arms once wrapped around her, strong, steady, and sure… now only phantasmal. Slipping from this realm...

 

Endure.

 

Sulcelia, Laurie, Vayan- her little brother and sisters. Their grief matched hers, yes. But there was a slight variation buried deep within her own. They had Aurelion, their father, but not hers. 

 

Endure.

She told herself, again…

 

The realization - and the utterly heart wrenching realization that she was alone, now. She was Sonna’s. And with the Fox gone… she is no one’s.

Endure. 

And again.

 

Daughter of Sonna, daughter of the fox, daughter of the departed, the dead. Had only, now, by ghosts.

 

endure…

 

But this loss was not one she could endure.

 

Only the redwoods would know how the eldest living daughter of the Matriarch wept - in the heart of the forest, in the dead of night. Where only dappled moonlight could find her - where her grief was her own, not to be heard or shared. She wept for a loss greater than she ever thought possible to feel, to bear. The shattered pieces of heart and soul wrenched by her own hand as she wailed would lay there forever - for she knew what was lost, was lost. 

Dawn would not reach her before that vulpine creature did. It was not Endure, as she told herself, that roused her from the mossy floor beneath her. Only the gentle, loving voice and ghostly hand felt brushing her cheek - belonging to her beloved Matriarch - would possess the ability to bring her back to herself on this eve.

 

Keep going.

 

And so she would. 

 

Spoiler

A huge thank you to you, Junoix. For bringing me into the community and giving me the opportunity to take part in the beautiful, heartbreaking story that is Sonna Vulnrith. And for playing a monumental part in Arle's story, too. She would not be who she is today without you and Sonna. She knows it, and so do I. Thank you. And enjoy your retirement. Your contributions and the work you put into the community will not be forgotten. (At least not if I have anything to say about it.)

 

[Phersades 1710]

The Mother of Foxes

 

Spoiler

 

           

There was no greater sound to the young fox than that of her mother's calls. Sonna was always so busy as the overseer of the Watcher's Roost; A leader, a priestess, and an Archdruid. As a child, Vayan did not mind her mother's absence as much fore she believed that there was important work to be done always. This was true not only of her mother, but her brothers and sisters as well. On the rare occasion they were all together, there was nothing the Vulnrith could want more. Nothing made her happier than being yelled at to be kinder to her brother, or being called for dinner. 

   

There was no greater love than that of which Vayan held for her mother the day she called on Sonnos. It was recently she explained it to a Dragon Knight, but she had held a sense of adoration that could never be recreated for as long as she was meant to live. Vayan watched the foxes they kept and raised gather to meet their Prince on the island. Her mother knelt down before the shrine they gave offerings to as the land shook below them. The calls of the vulpine rang through the forest as the towering Patron weaved through the large trees. It was there that he, this God, bestowed her mother with his verbal blessings. He knew her, felt her presence, and acknowledged her work.

Sonna was his child, and he loved her... and thus the Fang of Sonnos was hers.

Vayan could not believe it. Not only had she met a second Mani so early in her life, but her own blood was blessed by that whom she prayed to. It was all due to her mother, whom she could never stop loving despite their occasional dispute. The Vulnrith often wished to break free from her mother's image, but deep down she wished to be even a fraction as lovely as she was. Respected by the purest of things: Nature itself.  

There was no greater fear than that which grew within the little Fox as she watched her mother turn down the Spore Druid's plans. It had begun the moment her mother was lured into that space, and each little disruption caused for the aching pain to shoot through her heart. The darkspawn which lingered had threatened to kill her before the Spore had even pulled that Blessed Fang. Vayan did not know she would be there, and this was not the plan

She had initially spoken out in hopes Sonna would recognize her and heed the warning. It was then that the Spore had plunged Sonnos' Fang into her mother's stomach, and Vayan witnessed her fall. The Blessing that she had watched her mother receive was the very thing to kill her. The arms of the armored figure at Vayan's side held her tight to keep her from intervening, her cries being the only thing capable of reaching her mother.

 

...Yet despite all, her final mother's final words were that of forgiveness and nature cried.

 

[RaiderBlue 1064]

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

“I will not aid you in ruining yourself”

 

In the lengthy days since the death of the Matriarch Fox the being once simply known as Asger Nria lingered within the wilds. The line of dialogue from his favored sibling weighed upon him as each step forward did to him. He had separated from his coven upon the completion of the ritual to linger upon what had been wrought, but he felt such little joy he expected from the moment. While the contortion of the beast sparked life, as he shifted away to safety and lingered on fang within his possession he was forced to recall what he had done.

 

Hidden away within the inner channels of a lonesome cave the Spore Druid could not help but lean inward to the voices that rattled out to him. An inner council of only his creation. Periodically the lord twitched  scratching against his barked skin in contemplation as the chattering arguments of the colony of mycelium upon his staff continued, leaving him to set it aside to further close himself off from the voice of nature, a council he did not seek. He denied any other further opinion on it, in his own mind it was just the same thoughts that drove him. “It all had to be done; it was they who acted first.” Though unfortunately for the man while a being of soul tied to the realm his soul was not only his own but one intertwined with a creature that knew all too well his nature.

 

Betrayer. Coward. Killer.

 

Rattled out the tune of the long dead owl Spore had utilized but days before, so laced within his own actions, something gifted to him by the very own druid he betrayed. He could not escape the reality of his nature, there was no justification for claiming the fox as he did as there was no reason for the claiming of the Owls life he had a century before. How the simple word Traitor uttered in the Owls' last moments caused the man's rage to consume, releasing an anguished wave of death over the owls once home. It was true that the Lord hated to remember a time that had long abandoned him.

 

When that fox found the Draoi lingering in solitude alone bearing a letter only of the past the man showed something to the once companion of the Fox druid he had not in many years compassion. Taking the letter with shaky hands as the fox scampered out of the cavern with its life.

[marsloll 1384]

Spoiler

 

 

 

[By Vitali Skvorkin]

 

⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ. ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

 

Claws held on tight to the frantic Vayan, willing her to stay where she was as all bore witness to the murder of the Elder Fox. Bright red blood burst from her stomach, painting her soft green dress and pelt with its contrasting hue - the woman to her left set into a crying frenzy. All the while, the creature did not blink from behind their soulless mask. Not even once - unphased by the violence or unable to express anything in the face of tragedy.

 

⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

 

As the Princess Bear’s tormented roars echoed over the dying swamp, the betrayers scurried away into the trees and murky waters - fleeing from the scene of the crime underneath the warped camouflage that hid them from prying eyes. In the escape, they did not even let out a single breath - all of the wind in the world, trapped in their lungs as if deemed unsafe to even breathe in the presence of such destruction.

 

⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

 

Guilt bore too burdensome of a weight for many - even if it were simply heavy stones placed by another hand, orchestrated through their many webs. A confession would not bring the Sparrow’s mother back, no - it certainly would not even begin to turn back the damage that all played a hand within. Yet even through the pragmatism in unblinking eyes, there was a twang of … sympathy. A rare thing - a dangerous thing. All it could do was watch the ginger scamper away into the small cavern and it was left there to reflect upon the day’s events. Too casually it did so, as if none of it even mattered anymore - the emptiness finding solace within their vessel once more. Their thoughts lingered upon the Fox’s final words to the Vulnrith - even in the heat of the moment did the druidess find her daughter’s sorrow too much to bear. One wonders what she would’ve said to the woman instead, if they spoke for a final time before her body was torn asunder.

 

Goodbye, my sweet thing.

 

I never knew you.

 

⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆ ᴡʜʏ'ᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅ? ⋆⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺⋆

 

[NightcastorKitty 2779]

R

[Spoopy_Duck 3217]

What is my purpose?

The question weighed on the Vulnrith son. In his youth, two paths had been laid out before Laurie. To follow in the footsteps of his mother, eldest sister, and eventually his younger. Or to follow solely in the footsteps that his father and eldest sister defiantly held. The path of courage and nature was no longer an option to him like it had been to them. So he had made his choice.

"It was to protect my family."

He kept rationalizing to himself and anyone who asked why. He walked this path for protection, yet first it was his eldest brother, the circumstances of his death still unknown. Now, it was his mother, and he was not there either time. The grief felt much lesser this time however, as the tales came from his siblings about her passing, about his own families involvement in such he stood there vigilant as he could as he listened. He had only cried once... and it had yet to happen again.

"Did I make the wrong choice?"
 

The self doubt returned, it had been stowed away so long. His family, his friends, Namora. None of them judged him harshly for his path, even Vayan did not hate him for such. The letter sat in his hands as he read it over and over. His mother was proud of him, though he could not find it to be proud of himself.

"I will see you again mother, I promise."

[Tav 4336]

Spoiler

 

 

♫♪♫ | Isobel

“The moths carry your song; the foxes, your story. You gave this world your best shot, Matriarch of the East.”

 

Recent days brought the silence he sought, and the solitude he appreciated. The Prisgoth oftentimes felt comfort in his lonesome; he hated the idea of carrying empty conversation with another, especially if it was pertaining to recent events. Nature spoke to him, in its weird ways; with the hum of a cicada, and the leaf feeding his campfire; he oftentimes forgot what it truly meant to be a druid. To be free, yet to be competent all the same. 

 

Far he was, from an era of freedom; much like the others of the Druidic Order—in which he thought himself as the last person to blame. He had to do it—something in his gut commanded it so; it remembered every smiling face, every sly remark he received, and every backstabber that had the gall to name themselves a sister or a brother. A plague; a spore that choked him. 

 

Yet beyond those reasons, the last person who should’ve faced the blade was the Fox. It was for change, he couldn't help but repeat. Her letter remained clamped between two digits; and as he read those words, perhaps, even for a slight moment, redemption hadn’t felt so far. He remembered every sour encounter, every petty drama that made his day-to-day all the more tedious; yet, by his side, had there always been a fox happily accompanying that panther.

 

You didn’t deserve it, all that happened to you; the betrayal, the lying, the trickery. We were far from the first.

[Deer__ 1558]

Spoiler

 

Aurelion Vulnrith, lost to his wanderlust was called home by the grim din thrumming through the song, one after another. It would be days more of pressing travel before he came upon the woodlands of Iryalen, before he had crossed paths with the fox. He had knelt to greet the creature. Its anxiety had already told the story.

 

A feeling of rising heat, a static about his fingertips as they brushed the parchment of the letter. These were all that the Falcon had memory of before he awakened amidst another wooded patch. He had settled on the forest floor as discordant chimes rang out around him. The templar was left in an exhausted haze. In truth he had traveled a day straight after receiving the letter.

 

In the moments before exertion claimed his wakefulness from him, he spotted something soothing. A spot of russet fur, a glimmering of gold. His fingers roused in a feeble attempt to reach out. Aurelion lost consciousness, his eyes tearful as he faded.

 

[glassyskies 320]

Spoiler

 

 

A pair of hands trembled still, clutching at nothing but air with involuntary grasp made toward a tree who stood most stalwart and calm. Briefly did it come to her in comfort, reminding the newly ordained matriarch of the path her own mother had set her upon. It was she who saw the most potential in the young Vulnrith - potential she herself could not see, no matter how many times she might be reminded. Each accomplishment came with praise in hopes of rousing her spirit, but her false smiles and laughter could only go so far. Now, her farce was forced away by this tragedy. The reality of it was that she was meant to carry the torch, and it had already been placed into her hand. She did not feel herself to be ready, but when she looked into the wise eyes of her elder sister, she briefly felt resolute… calm… only for another of her siblings to hoarsely cry out behind her…

 

Sulcelia turned to find her most troubled sibling, donned in harrowing garb, drenched in mud & congealed ichor. What came next was a fit of anger unbecoming of a leader, one that would haunt this new matriarch for decades to come. 

 

It was mercy… 

 

She might tell herself, only to second guess, and find both hands clamping at the sides of her head, twisting it until there was an ache in her neck. Each moment she felt the handle of her weapon within her grasp, she was reminded of her severity. Her hands began to tremble at the thought of carrying out a sentence, or even to defend herself.

 

I am no leader…

 

The aelf thought. What leader would butcher her own people in such a way? Was it glory? Spectacle? Had that pushed her so far as to maim one of her own?

Was it mercy..?

 

She lied. She would lie again. What cruelty it was, to be named matriarch when there were so many more sagely characters in her line. Many harbored a wisdom she did not yet have, despite her many years of attunement. Sulcelia was only a creature of habit - of anger, and explosive behavior. 

 

Then, came the letters… Her own note was read with the same trembling hands, each sentence repeated over, then over again as she tried to assemble each word into a proper string as her eyes stung and blotched with tears. Sonna’s own handwriting cemented the weight of leadership upon her. Not only that, but the legacy of her totem… The Amber bawled, her breaths coming out in choked wheezes or rattles that knocked the wind from her with each spasm to her body.

Then, the fox. Crowned with a golden circlet, and a penchant for mischief… Past her tearful gaze - that accursed gaze, unlike her mother’s… she sniffled, and took in the sight of her moniker. In that moment, it was all she could imagine when she spoke the name Vulnrith to herself… but with each pass of the critter’s face, she was reminded more & more of her mother, and her final wishes for her. The fox bristled when Sulcelia sought to near, and when it had, she calmly pulled away. There was trouble to the critter’s eye, too, for it had just lost its own mother, too. Amber eyes met one another, and Sulcelia attempted again. She was met with a nip at her crimson fingers, budding now with small beads of blood. Quiet was her hiss, but her teary face showed none but care. Upon her third attempt, she shed her tears, weeping silently, and settling a hand upon her kin. Gently did her clawed digits rake through the orange fur, and while the vulpine did not seem to take so kindly to it, it eased when it heard a voice through the song… A promise.

Shh… It’s okay. It will be okay.

[DankuzMemuz 60]

Spoiler

 

Traskaath found himself at the foot of the statue of Sonnos, sitting down he was quiet for quite a while, reading the note that the vulpine had delivered him earlier. He hadn't the heart to read it then. But he did now.

 

Carefully the seal was broken and the letter unfolded. He took a deep breath and then he read.

 

'Future'

 

What kind of future was there? A future where more of his Siblings died? Where his friends and loved ones died by the dozen? He wanted to get to know Sonna earlier, but Fate had other plans for they only met at the start of the darkest time he had known so far. But it seemed like they had known eachother for centuries.. Laughter was shared, grief spilled.

 

The Druid would always doubt himself. Doubt the future. Doubt the past.

 

He wanted to see her again. And he would. But not today or tomorrow.. She had earned her rest for a good while.

 

"I love you, too.."

 

He found himself breaking yet again, tears streaking down his cheeks. Exhaustion would take him eventually and he fell asleep infront of the statue of Sonnos and he could faintly hear the chittering of foxes and reassuring presence of Sonna herself..

 

 

Edited March 19 by DankuzMemuz

[NightOfTheWind 3226]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘ ˚𝄢ᡣ𐭩 ⋅ One Summer's Day ⋅ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋♬ ∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

by Joe Hisaishi

· · ────────────────── ·⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅· ────────────────── · ·

 

Down deep in the depths of the Misty Hollow, where the faeries frolicked and the animals played, an unsettling grief was lying down in the dark; a mourning thing. Farther back, past the waterfalls and in the quarters of foxes, their burrow began to shake as a rumbling took place deep in the soil. The ground rose and split to reveal my form, rolling fog dancing beneath my crossed legs. Shifting my weight forward, I made my way past the scampering sprites and dancing moths, entering a small grotto. Where there should have been fauna recovering from unfair injuries, there was nothing. Not a peep, not a sound. Concerned at this empty space, I brought myself closer where a tall and mighty mushroom rose against the walls, a small wooden door locking away anguish from the outside world. My elderly hand reached up to wave over the lock, where it clicked. The knob turned itself and opened, allowing me to enter the dark home where not even a candlelight illuminated the space. As I removed myself from my cloud and drifted further in by foot, light from the ajar door shined on a small figure resting on their bed, their face in their pillow. Yet soon they began to stir awake.

 

 

When they saw me, the boy's tail curled inward. He quietly turned his focus away from me and turned his back to me with a roll of his frame. "Not even a greeting for me, dear Pilgrim?" I asked. No answer, of course. ".. I see." I looked forward. "It's a shame, then." I began to speak bluntly. "She was a fine tutor, and cultural leader. Her absence is greatly affecting the forests as we speak." My words only sought to act as daggers into his back, causing the spirit to sink further into his sheets. "You have failed quite a lot lately. Your deal with Kroza, letting yourself be manipulated by draoi, and now a Mani has been unleashed upon the world. Moreover, there's a possibility you are to blame for it. You were there, after all. You cannot hide things from me." My voice caused him to tremble now, his tears starting to dampen his pillow. "Your powers are tied to your emotions. You could have defeated him then, when he came for you. Or even after the fact, whilst he was torturing you."

 

"Something stopped you. You did not raise a hand upon him. You fai-"

A resounding crack struck the walls and caused them split apart, like something was attempting to break out from them. I looked down towards the source, who was now sitting up and staring at me with his glowing crimson eyes; a demon's eyes. Finally, his grief had moved to anger. ".. We cannot change the past, Great Sage." I said, speaking calmly to him despite this. "Nor can we make up for it, most of the time. But are you going to sit here and sulk forever? There is much to be done." A call to action was clearly not what he needed, as his gaze weakened and he quickly lost sight of his malice as soon as he had it, falling limp onto the bed once again. Seeing this, I let out a hollow sigh and reached into my vest, where I removed a letter. The sound of tearing open the sealed parchment made him open an eye, quietly lifting his head in curiosity. "Do not think your existence is a flawed, dear Pilgrim. She did not think your life was a sin--her leaving us does not make that any less true." My words, and the sight of the letter unfolding caused his body to jolt awake. He was looking at it with desperation now, as if it was a way to seek-..

 

"An answer?"

I interrupted my thoughts, gazing down at him. "This." I lightly smacked him on the head with the paper. "It is material. Just a paper. It cannot guide you. Only you can do that for yourself, and others." Nevertheless, it was clear by his dulling expression that he needed to hear her last words to him regardless; he needed to be told what to do.

 

So I began to read.

 

‿̩͙‿ ༺ 𝄞⨾𐭩༘⋆ ⋅ The Coming of Spring ⋅ 𐙚｡♬⨾⋆.˚ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

by Joe Hisaishi

· · ────────────────── ·⋅•⋅⊰∙✩₊˚.⋆☾ 𓃦 ☽⋆⁺₊✧∙⊱⋅•⋅· ────────────────── · ·

"You are a good Druid, Chaosheng, despite your lack of gifts. You may even be a better druid than most other attuned."

 

The door to his home swung open, the light from within tearing away at the darkness within the cave. There a troupe of animals awaiting him, hopping, gliding, or running alongside him as he sped down the grotto and leapt past the waterfall and landed onto the bridge, making a great splash.

 

"I know that they can be mean to you sometimes, and ungrateful of all you do for us. But I see what you do, and I am thankful for it."

 

I watched from the great tree that towered over the Hollow above as the boy began to climb up a nearby tree. There, on a branch, two squirrels were arguing over the same walnut. With his tail, our Great Sage knocked the seed out of their hands and caught it with his own, splitting it in half and offering a piece to each one. Laughing at the sight of them quickly feasting, he began to climb up the tree and hooked his arm around the thinning trunk, gazing off into the distance. Choosing a random direction by way of the wind, he leapt away and took the form of a falcon, where I watched him soar off into the distance.

 

"I hope you stay with the druids still, for I know they will need you in the days to come. Thank you for everything, Chaosheng."

 

When he reached the fields, I watched him shift back into his former self, running downhill so fast that he kicked up a stream of dust behind him. What was he thinking there as he outran the animals that followed after him, now that grief had left him?

 

 

"I will never forget you."

[exanimated 1363]

"Oh mother.. I never stopped missing you."

 

Within the forests an 'ame of growing age would sit, surrounded by nature and the wails of a dead god within his ears; it had been centuries since he had seen his mother, yet each day he prayed to the dead for her. Sun broke through the canopy as the aged elf slowly forced himself up, breaking through the pain and hurt that remained from the war against the drconic. Stepping onto the leaves outside is small hollow home he heard it; a fox running to him with a letter; a look of confusion, a look of understanding. He took the letter, he read it, and so Faen wept.

 

"We did not see eye to eye, nor do I follow your gods.. Yet please Aspects, take her care; may your forests sing in joy for her and her deeds."

 

-----------------------

 

Within the forest Zolvan would stir, that ancient druid having been long since lost to time when the Void had torn him asunder; hundreds of years since he had last seen Sonna, yet today he knew, he felt it. She shall join him within the forest soon and he may see her once more. And so he walked, so he stepped towards where the Aspects may guide him. Slowly working to see her once more, the Amber Druid would give a weary smile; hoping to greet her as she awoke, yet sad she must leave the world of the living. Though such is the way of the Druid, he would greet her with a smile, welcoming her to well deserved rest after centuries of service. A Druid happy to see his wife once more and learn of her life beyond what he ever got to see.

 

"Welcome my Fox, I missed you so. Welcome to your well earned rest."

 

Spoiler

Though we have not interacted in a long time I am sad to see Sonna go. She was a wonderful character and you had played her wonderfully for a long time; She is a large part of my own story on LOTC from Zolvan's redemption in marrying and our building of that story together before his death, to the slight fight we had when Faen became a paladin. Thank you for the wonderful times, I have many fond memories of Sonna and I hope whatever you choose to do next, be it another character you focus on or pulling away from LOTC is fruitful and brings you joy. 

 

[JJosey 1481]

 

Stuff We Did

They had not liked each other at first.

It had been many years ago- so many that the sharp edges of the memory had softened - but Idril still remembered the tension of that first meeting.

Their father had seen to that.

Sonna had arrived first, as she often did in those days, with the restless energy of something that belonged to the forest more than to any hall. Crimson curls tangled with ivy and blossoms, foxes circling her steps like shadows made of fur and flame. She carried the scent of pine and wild earth with her, as though the woods themselves had followed.

Idril had watched from the edge of the clearing.

Where Sonna was movement and rustling leaves, Idril had always been quiet. Pale hair gathered neatly behind her shoulders, the quiet glow about her form reflecting softly across the water nearby. If Sonna belonged to the forest floor, Idril belonged to the lake beside it.

Fox and Swan.

They had regarded one another with equal skepticism.

“You glow too much,” Sonna had said after a long moment, squinting slightly.

Idril raised a brow.

“And you appear to have misplaced several branches in your hair.”

 

The years did what years often do.

They softened things.

Not all at once. Never so simply.

Their bond was not forged in grand moments or declarations. Instead it grew slowly, stubbornly - like roots beneath soil.

There were arguments, of course.

Sonna was wind and instinct, prone to charging forward with teeth bared when the world wronged her.

They disagreed often.

But they did not leave.

That was the difference.

When Sonna vanished for months into the wilderness, she would eventually return to find Idril exactly where she had left her.

Waiting beside still waters.

When Sonna arrived bruised, furious at the world, Idril never asked too many questions. She simply poured tea and allowed silence to do what words could not.

Foxes would curl at Idril’s feet.

Swans would glide silently nearby.

It became… normal.

One night, long into their strange sisterhood, Sonna asked the question that had quietly followed her for years.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

Idril looked up from the book she had been reading.

“Doing what?”

“Waiting.”

Sonna leaned against the stone windowframe, arms folded, her fox companions sprawled lazily across the floor.

“You always wait for me to come back.”

Idril studied her for a moment.

Then she closed the book.

“Because you always do.”

Sonna scoffed lightly.

“You say that like it’s obvious.”

Idril’s expression softened.

“To a swan, the lake never disappears simply because the fox wanders into the woods.”

Sonna stared at her.

Then groaned.

“You’re insufferably poetic.”

“I am correct.”

The fox that came to her window did not startle Idril. Foxes had always come and gone freely where she lived, and for a moment she believed this one no different from the others. Only when it lingered sitting with unusual patience upon the stone ledge - did her attention lift from the parchment before her. Around its neck was a golden circlet. Idril knew that circlet. Her breath caught quietly in her chest as she rose, the movement slow and careful, and approached the window. The fox did not flee. It simply waited as she opened the pane and accepted the letter tied gently against the very circlet.

The seal was unmistakable.

A fox pressed into golden wax, framed by small leaves of sage and the pale blossoms of fairy foxglove. Idril held the envelope for a moment longer than necessary, her thumb resting against the impression as if the simple warmth of her touch might somehow shorten the distance between them. When she finally broke the seal, the paper unfolded with a familiar softness. Sonna’s handwriting had never been graceful; the letters wandered across the page as though even ink could not convince the fox to walk in a straight line.

Idril read it once.

Then again.

The faintest smile touched her lips as she reached the end, a small warmth rising quietly within her chest. It had been too long since the last letter. Too long since she had heard Sonna’s voice in anything but memory.

She moved back to the desk, the letter resting beside her as though the fox who had written it might appear at any moment to reclaim it. The quill dipped into ink with a soft scratch, and Idril began to write her reply with the careful patience she brought to all things.

Sonna,
You remain entirely predictable. Wandering the wilderness, collecting foxes and trouble in equal measure. I cannot say I am surprised.

Her hand paused briefly as she considered the next line.

You will insist you are content in solitude, and I will insist that solitude is not peace. We have had this conversation long enough that I suspect neither of us intends to surrender the argument.

The quiet smile returned.

Still, I am glad to hear from you. The lake is calm this morning. The swans have been particularly arrogant as of late, which I suspect you would enjoy correcting if you were here.

The quill slowed.

A strange stillness had begun to creep into the room.

At first Idril thought it was merely the quiet of the hour, the sort of silence that often settled when the wind fell still outside. Yet this silence felt… wrong. It pressed inward, heavy and unfamiliar, like the moment before a storm breaks across clear water.

Her breath trembled.

Far away - so far she could not have heard it with mortal ears - foxes began to cry.

The quill slipped slightly in her grasp, leaving a long, uneven mark across the parchment. Idril did not move. She stared at the ink spreading slowly across the page, her fingers tightening around the feather as the understanding rose within her like cold water.

It was not a thought.

It was certainty.

The sort that arrived without explanation.

The sort that left no room for hope.

The fox would not be writing again.

For a long time Idril sat there without moving. The letter beneath her hand blurred slightly as tears gathered against her will, falling quietly against the parchment in small dark circles of water and ink.

At last she forced herself to look again at Sonna’s words, her fingers brushing lightly across the page as though it were something fragile, something easily lost.

Then, with slow and trembling care, Idril lowered the quill once more.

The ink trembled as she continued the letter.

I was about to tell you that the lake feels too quiet when you are gone.

Her breath faltered.

I did not realize how quiet it could truly become.

The quill paused, the final line taking longer to form than all the others.

Come home when you can.

The words sat there in stillness.

Idril stared at them for a long while before her hand slowly lowered, the quill slipping from her fingers to rest beside the unfinished letter. Outside the window the fox had long since vanished back into the trees, leaving only the faint rustle of leaves and the distant cry of something grieving somewhere deep within the forest.

Idril did not rise from the desk.

She remained there with the letter open before her, the ink still drying beneath her tears, and for the first time in centuries the swan did not know how to wait for the fox to return.

[Chuuwys 502]

"Do these traits speak to you, suika?"

 

 

Death had become such a heavy expectation. Every time there was a scream across an otherwise muted orchestra, Suliin’yuln felt her heart that had learned to freeze itself melt and cry in tandem. But nothing prepared her for such a hellish cry as that which came following Sonna's death. There's never an expectation that someone might pass, but of everyone she had expected would stay a little longer, it would be the Priestess of Sonnos.

 

And she was gone.

 

Rage. Grief. Desperate pleas against injustice, and comfort towards her loved ones. But what tearful cries that would want to take hold are held back for when she was alone. Even when her lari’onn had her mind wiped of memory and came back, she could only give her a brave face and play along.

 

Family was always a strange thing for the young Mali’ame. She knew the Vulnrith Matriarch had likely wanted her to stay and become one of her own kits, even if not by any official means of haelun and malii’lari. Her heart would not be swayed, not nearly enough to be chosen first in an unfair ultimatum between Seed and Duty. To choose between whim and freedom, and her attunement. In the end, she put what she wanted first, what she had always wanted: to help protect the Balance. Had it ever even meant anything when murder also stole what she had hoped for from that very same Guide?

 

—-

 

She returned to Iryalen late, hours after Sonna’s body was put to rest and returned to the earth, ichorous and blighted. Her furniture at home was overturned or broken, yet one detail stood out - white fur resting against the red carpet in the centre of the main room. That cry of Sonnos’ children across the land had met her aging ally as well, the body of Ilum’tuveh asleep for the last time and returned to the Prince of Foxes’ domain.

 

She breaks. Her heart finally shattered and sobs heaved in and out of her chest when she lifted his body, carrying him to the statue of the Prince at the edge of the Amber Plateau. Her hands were stained with dirt and mud, gently placing her friend into the hole she had dug for him, settling him down in a curled position so that he could continue his peaceful slumber. Freshly piled earth and a moss-lidden stone left as a marker of the burial.

 

The Drui dragged herself beneath one of the trees, resting near the statue. Something stirred from the bushes nearby. A letter, stamped with golden wax, carried in the maw of an orange fox. She hands it a small sample of fresh meat in exchange for a job well done, hand petting its head with her bite-scarred hand. The tears flow again, reading the words that had been left for her in the former Matriarch's wake.

 

…What potential was there to be had in a killer? What mantle of expectations had others placed on her shoulders when she was still so young, when she could barely tell the right path from the wrong one and her words now carried enough weight that it could lead to more death?

 

She holds the note close to her chest as she cries, the talihnsilan they had made together as part of her trials laid across her lap and messenger fox resting by her ankles. Fingers trace over the Prayer of Fortitude that Sonna had engraved for her, something she held as priority over war that had carried her body through thick and thin, a symbol of endurance. Preservation over destruction.

 

Suliin’ knows in her heart that even if she kept her distance and duty kept her further still, that never for a day did she abandon Sonnos or forget Sonna in any true way, that she need not be Vulnrith to still hear His call and feel her loss, that she would continue to work with cunning and use what she learnt to help keep her home alive.

 

She would never forget what she was taught, curling up that night beneath her personal shrine where the names of loved and lost ones hovered above the altar.

A vuln’ii turned scavenger; preserver; mourner.

 

“I want you to run… Whatever you feel is natural. Once you feel you are finished, return to us once more..”

 

Edited March 18 by Chuuwys