Was Peace Too High A Price To Ask?

[PrinceTheDM 275]

 

[!] A missive is pinned throughout Norland and other Imperial Settlements, alongside the previous missive.

Spoiler

Is Peace Too High A Price To Ask?

 

Throughout my years within Aevos and Azuras alike, never have I borne an accusation more insulting than this one. These claims are baseless, and the source from which they stem speaks volumes enough on its own. This missive was not written in pursuit of truth, but to cast smoke across the trial soon to be held before the Council.

If you believe the proceedings unjust, then point your spears toward them. Bring no further harm in your wake.

Yet the accusations levied are grave enough that silence can no longer suffice. I shall quell the flames of libel before they are fanned into wildfire.

Long has it been known that I was once afflicted by twin curses: one upon my soul, and one upon my mind. I was young. Naive. Barely two elven months upon the shores of this realm before my ignorance was turned against me.

My first brush with darker arts came within the walls of Haelun’or, when one among those circles approached me as a fellow seeker of knowledge. I followed him to hidden meetings throughout the city.

That was my first mistake.

One for which I have paid penance time and time again.

The Inquisition ensured I witnessed the horrors of the Infernal firsthand. I was cast into a realm overrun by demonkind. Even now, I wear an aurum lorraine against my skin that burns eternally as a reminder of the folly of treating with such wretched powers.

So I speak now, to the author of that missive, dare not listen to the lies your source speaks.

For the source of these accusations is one who willingly sought the path of a Cursed Child long after witnessing the consequences of such afflictions. Not only this, but after embracing such darkness, they saw fit to consort with the Salvians within Urguan - rebels and agitators sowing discord beneath the very mountain they claim to cherish.

And still, when flame and betrayal left infernal scars upon their flesh, they came to me mangled, bruised, and broken.

My knowledge and alchemy restored them to health. I asked for nothing in return save that they live well, and grant unto others the same mercy once granted to them.

Instead, old wounds are reopened and scars long cauterized are salted anew.

What next? Shall my lessons on the dangers of the Void be called indoctrination? Shall my teachings of literature be branded treason because romance novels offend Imperial sensibilities?

I was granted a second chance I did not deserve. That truth has never left me. It is why I labor tirelessly so others do not repeat the same mistakes I once made.

It is my cross to bear, wrought in aurum upon my neck. Forever burning against my skin.

And what, then, has the source of these accusations done with their second chance?

What have you done, Elizar? Kagura. Pinemaw. Whatever name you wear now.

Whatever you wish to label yourself, keep my name from your mouth. You dishonor it by speaking it.

I am no conspirator.

No dark lord.

No hidden tyrant.

I am a humble scholar.

A worldly professor.

A loving husband.

A doting father.

That is all I am. And all I ever shall be.

Place no further labels upon me.

This yoke strains my neck enough as it is.

[Morigung-oog 5697]

[Private letter, do not metagame.] 

 

---

 

No wingbeat announces the arrival of Valindra's seldom-seen courier Crow. One moment the air is empty, the next it is simply there, perched upon the window sill of Elijah's room in the dead of night. It lingered, as pale as frost and as silent as the grave, depositing a single envelope emblazoned with the jet-black seal that the 'aheral had come to recognise over the decades they'd exchanged correspondence. It observes Elijah with eyes enveloped in a ghostly mist, letting down its guard to hop around playfully only when the letter had been accepted.

 

And then, the moment Elijah turned his sights from the phantasmal corvid to the note provided, it vanishes...

 

Spoiler

Elijah,

 

Word travels in tired, predictable circles. It is a rather irksome truth of the nature of existence. It was inevitable even in my current state of recluse that it would eventually reach me. I recall the first time such accusations were laid at your feet and I know of the truth behind them. So too, however, did I know your reasoning; I called it arrogant then, and if true, I call it arrogant now that you think one can simply infiltrate the infernal courts without being infiltrated themself one way or another. I choose to believe, however, that following the rather difficult lesson I taught you all those years ago that such mortal hubris is well beneath you by this stage.

 

I am no teacher, no admirable mentor, though when I see those under my guidance fall, I like to impart teachings-- difficult ones. These revelations sting, like wounds being stitched by a white-hot needle, and yet that is what makes them memorable and thus all the more difficult to disregard. Today is no exception. Out of respect for your character, I shall once again grant you my wisdom. 

 

We as individuals are not measured by the goodness of our heart by those officials and orders around us, but by merit of our competency and-- by extension-- usefulness. Every living creature carries with them a proverbial skeleton in the closet, a secret best left unspoken. As long as we are useful, those above us may choose to turn a blind eye to the ugliness of our secrets, for ignorance is a beautiful thing when used in the pursuit of one's goals. It is how Acal'maehr was permitted to reside in office,  how Arthur and Yera existed in the Empire for as long as they did and how I, with my flaws and secrets innumerable,  was able to climb as high as I did. I am not guilt-free in the utilisation of this all-too-common mentality. My time as a spy, diplomat, commander, Sohaer ensured that I too had to live by this rule both as a leader and a follower.

 

I know not of what events unfolded to lead you to this exact moment, nor do I particularly care; matters of mortality tend to bore one as old as I greatly nowadays. It matters little now, anyway. You were never truly being judged for what you are, but rather for how long you have remained useful. And someone, somewhere has come to the conclusion that you have outlived your use. 

 

Widespread scandals such as these never end quickly, at least not without blood being spilled. Your blood, I should clarify.

 

It is, at its core, a betrayal. Lesser-lived creatures are often fortunate enough to only experience this phenomenon once in their lifespan. We, stewards of eternity, are cursed in this instance and are oftentimes doomed to encounter these incidents multiple times throughout our lifespans. I imagine this is your first true experience of it. The hurt caused likely seems unbearable, and the emotions, heartbreak and likely paranoia that shall stem from this shall last you a lifetime in one way or another. It certainly has with me. I recall my first and second encounters-- Haelun'or and Fenn respectively-- in vivid, excruciating detail and have been both strengthened and shattered by them. It creates not one, but many shockwaves, that often tear through those closest to us. Such is why I discourage most meaningful mortal bonds and attachment. When one learns to stomach the inevitability of betrayal, it grows easier, if only barely softer on the palette-- it certainly has for me.

 

It is rare nowadays that I experience pain second-hand, though your scandal has caused me just that. I considered myself a guardian, a steward of you, your family and Vivien. I aimed to teach and bolster your resolves for all of life's agonizing certainties. Life is ever-fleeting, and thus I vowed to myself that I would not intervene with any semblance of emotional substance. Today I break that vow.

 

Your loyalty has not gone unnoticed, Elijah. In a world as unforgiving as this, true loyalty is a luxury one does not encounter merely every century. Your kindness, candour has presented me with a gift, a debt that I shall never truly be able to repay; hope. Not much, mind you-- but enough to bolster my conviction enough to continue my defence of the veil in all its forms.

 

In the spirit of loyalty, I shall bestow unto you an offer though you should feel no great compulsion to accept should you deem it unnecessary. The outer planes beckon me. I've power enough to bring along with me a sole passenger.  I travel alone, more often than not; the solitude becomes me. Many have wished to join me on my journeys, often ignorant fools who  romanticise the novelty of traveling between realms. I have turned down Kings, Princes, Priests and Commanders who would serve only as liabilities or who wish only to travel as to bolster their ever-fragile egos. You, however, would be considered an exception. You are among the scarce minority that I would trust to travel at my side responsibly. This would not be the brief glimpse beyond worlds that you have come to know, but rather a prolonged excursion from which you may withdraw  at any given time.  Consider this a chance to remove yourself from the reach of those who would see you condemned for their own convenience, and instead turn your blade toward things that deserve your wrath. You will, of course, by backed by the full scope of my talents-- the likes of which I have kept from your gaze for your own safety. The outer planes do not judge as the sides of Aos and Eos do.

 

There is no shortage of work beyond the veil, and truth be told, I have grown tired of doing it alone.

 

Consider it, if nothing else, an answer to the irony of your situation. If they wish to name you consort to demons, then let them choke on the truth that you spend your days unmaking them.

 

May GOD have mercy on the misguided souls of the material plane.

 

 

---

 

Illegitimi non carborundum,

 

 

 

 

@PrinceTheDM

[Iulius 206]

1 hour ago, Morigung-oog said:

[Private letter, do not metagame.] 

 

---

 

No wingbeat announces the arrival of Valindra's seldom-seen courier Crow. One moment the air is empty, the next it is simply there, perched upon the window sill of Elijah's room in the dead of night. It lingered, as pale as frost and as silent as the grave, depositing a single envelope emblazoned with the jet-black seal that the 'aheral had come to recognise over the decades they'd exchanged correspondence. It observes Elijah with eyes enveloped in a ghostly mist, letting down its guard to hop around playfully only when the letter had been accepted.

 

And then, the moment Elijah turned his sights from the phantasmal corvid to the note provided, it vanishes...

Iulius eats the bird. 

@Morigung-oog