Two High Elves In The Rain

[Mithradites 1168]

((Music blatantly stolen from the wood-elven lore thread.))

 

 

http://youtu.be/aycOyH6SLSE

 

 

The cold deluge of rain pattered down upon the head and shoulders of Lucion's coat, and he gazed out upon the thin valley of flowers that lay in front of the silvery walls of Lin'averal. Lucion glared down towards them, and noted the odd separation between the field, and the forest before it.

Naturally separate.

Practically fate.

Not that he believed in such things. The world was for the intelligent to shape.

He leaned downwards, shifting his weight slightly on the shaft of his staff--plucking a flower from the moistened earth. He slowly straightened himself, and gazed at the plant--rolling its soft, red petals in the palm of his hand for a moment. The green and red created an odd juxtaposition between it, and his own pallid hand. He shifted his black, weather-beaten coat on his shoulders with a shivering shrug.

With a tilt of his head, he furrowed his brow and carefully pulled a petal from the flower's head, using only his fore-finger and thumb. He turned around slowly, keeping his eyes affixed on the petal itself, before lowering it--his eyes remaining staring forward.

From the space the petal had been, he could now see Elorna, the wood elf, walking towards Malinor, and its grand, emerald trees stretching into the far distance as if encapsulating the small woman from above. The message was spoken--old words, given new meaning. Would they be accepted, or denied?

Looking down between the petal, and the flower, his cold eyes shifted between the two for a short while, and he leaned back downwards, placing the flower gently back in its proper place, albeit, broken.

Turning around, he looked to his companion, Silir, who had stood with him, and helped deliver the words to Elorna. With a short look, he nodded, and walked back towards the city at a slow pace, wading through the myriad of flowers.

Lucion took one final look at the unconquerable Mali'nor forest, and turned away from it--walking through the meadow towards the silver towers. The rain was ebbing.

[Supremacy 3361]

Kalenz stands high above Lin'evaral gazing down upon the valley peppered with flowers. Kalenz looks down at the rain forming puddles upon the bannister of the tower, beyond that puddle remain the two figures. His gaze follows the two elves as they turn and slowly walk back through the valley. Quietly he mutters to himself "Sulian, it is done".

[Stag 3231]

Iatrilemar shifts through the trees. His steps are tempered as the rain continues it's escapade. Before long he finds himself in the meadow of flowers, rain sparkling off the newly washed petals. Taking his hand he slowly brushes the soaking hair from his eyes. Looking back he peers into the canopy of dark green leaves and towards the columns of bark that is Malinor. With a tired turn of his body he faces the giants and offers a single bow before turning back and looking upon the silver towers in the distance. With a smirk and a feeling of ease he begins to walk, stepping into individual puddles as he makes his way to the shimmering city that is Lin'evaral.

Home to the pure. 

[PtahWithin 1320]

((I approve greatly of your music choice.))

[Moot 1719]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.