Persevere

[PtahWithin 1320]

A message is slipped under the front door of each and every occupied home within Leumaelin, as well as being pinned on the several notice boards in the city. It is a white envelope folded and closed with a green wax seal, imprinted with the image of a great tree. Upon opening, one can read the following,

Citizens of Malinor and Children of Malin,

As is apparent, Malinor is not what it used to be. We have peace for now, but it is a quiet peace. Leumaelin is alive with the silence of Malin's Children. A whisper said near the South Gate can be heard clearly near the West Gate, as though sound in such a silence is like a drop of liquid rock producing great steam and presence as it strikes a flat body of cold water. And in the times when there are Mali who walk through the city, they often hide themselves from the noise of nothing and go within their homes. They stride past each other in the streets, not so much as greeting the other. It is like a gift of gold if they should so much as glance at each other.

In such a state, one remembers a line from the Ancient History, as recollected by the Wandering Wizard:

"Malin, I curse you with sterility, you and your kin shall forever lack the children they need. May your forest halls forever be silent, and your hearts heavy with sadness."

Though the Great Taint, Iblees, is long since gone, his words seem to echo even now. Our halls are silent. Our hearts are sad.

And yet we are not defeated. Recall what else is said within the Ancient History, recall as the Wandering Wizard gave to Malin, our father, to combat such a fate.

"Malin, may your forests be a sanctuary of peace and your children long lived."

If the cities, towns and Kingdoms of the Human nation were as empty and silent as ours is, if their castles echoed the ghosts of misery and their thrones carried men without hope, they would be lost. It is not a fault of their character or minds, but that of their body. The Valah are doomed to die, and if they had the grief that we have they would openly welcome death.

But we do not, and we must not. The life of a single Child of Malin is measured in the bloodlines of Humans. Our wisdom is measured not in books, but in libraries. Our patience, our perseverance, is something that can only be afforded to those who have seen the sun rise and fall hundreds of thousands of times.

And we have endured before. The silence we hear now is preferable to the frightened whispers heard in Laurelin as Al’khazar fell and the cackling of the dead closing in. The silence is like sweet music compared to the screams of terror and the roars of taint that was heard in the last hours of our first home, Laurelin.  The sadness we feel is as nothing to the grief of those who left through the Verge on the ships, having lost the only home they had ever known. Imagine their sense of confusion and loss as they entered the strange, new and dangerous land of Asulon.  And yet they remained, they endured, they persevered.

And so, Citizens of Malinor, Children of Malin, I urge you to do the same. Remain, in memory of those dispossessed from Laurelin. Endure the silence and spite it by not hiding in your homes and instead seek out those wandering the streets, and talk with them. Persevere with the faith that the earth shall not see us perish from it until years have passed equaling a thousand Mali bloodlines.

Remain.

Endure.

Persevere.

 

 

-Asthil Haumel, Event Coordinator of the Lower Council of Malinor
 

[Old Man Boiendl 1454]

(mind blown, written too well))

[Diri/GreenKoopaBros 58]

Upon using the Library Dictionary to understand most of the writing on the letter slid under his door, Ivar would smile, nodding as he would fold the Letter and set it on his bedside table. He knew that he didn't do enough to make friends among the other people of Malinor. That had to change. Getting ready for bed, he ran over multiple scenarios and such in his mind to which he would greet others. Even though he was Human, he knew that he was different from Humans in Oren. He was a Citizen of Malinor and he would do his best to make them happy and proud. 

 

Finally making it to his bed, he would blow out the Torch on his wall with a might heave of his chest. Laying down, his smile still warmed his features as he slept in the soft glow of the Redstone Torch that gave a flicker of calm light to the corner of his house that he slept in. He slept peacefully, that night, knowing what needed to be done upon his next walk out.

[magister 11]

*Dimaethor sees the note after scanning the notice board. He carefully opens it and begins to read. As he does, a smile forms on his face, getting larger and larger as he continues through the message, until he is positively beaming. 

 

"Remain, endure, persevere...I must meet this Asthil."

[WuHanXianShi14 0]

*Art tilts his head in an owl like motion, he holds his arms behind his back and frowns inquisitively*

 

"iheiuhii narne narnevem'ehya" He says matter of factly, and strides off over the mountains.

[NomadGaia 930]

Vermah looks at the posting on the notice boards "People must not lose hope, hope, after all, is all around us, it could be a flower or a tree, but life always finds its way, No matter what." *writes a single word next on the paper on the bottom in small neat writing "Hope"

[thewhiteknights(rarethorn) 27]

*laughs at the note* 

 

"It may be silent but thats because no one IS here. Creator be like Oren...Get some people here!"

[Moot 1719]

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