The Departing

[Moot 1719]

Enveloped by darkness, nothing audible other then the light noises of Snips patting down her long hairs with one of her large, black mandibles. Kalameet turns in his seat, it groans gently as he stares at his beast of a spider, after a few moments he returns his gaze to his desk. His eyes flicker over the empty page, then to the floating ebony orb of arcane energy which illuminates his desk. Kalameet lifts his left hand, bringing it to his face, rubbing his temples for a few moments, after these spared moments, he lowers his hands, inspecting it. The skin is disfigured, his entire hand covered in a grotesque burn scar, he sighs gently, the ebony orb shifting slightly, still illuminating the paper. Kalameet then picks up a quill, dabbing it in a vial of black ink, starting  to write his letter to Haelun'or.

 

 

"Dear Lucion, Kalenz, and all of those who thought they knew me."

"I, without regret, must write this letter as I will not be returning to the city. Although, for many years has this been my home, and haven to raise my beloved children, it no longer shares such kindnesses that I once sought it for. Home has become a place of violence, a place consistently barraged and harassed. Tales of hate and war eventually reach our walls, eventually these tales will turn reality, they will eventually be executed; I wish not to be caught in the center of it all."

 

"If I am deemed Impure for my recent actions, then one would suggest to test the Purity of each of the Aheral citizens within the City, this does not exclude Lucion, as he is the cause of my own departure. The Aheral's logic has been clouded, has been fogged due to this sense of Purity. Purity is indeed necessary, however over my years of being in the City, I've noticed many shun others from the walls who offer things of value. Things that can aid maehr'sae hiylun'ehya have been pushed away because of citizens deluded sense of Purity."

"But I digress... To Lelien and Azoth, my faithful students. Lelien, if you still wish your lessons, then do continue to attend classes in the College, if your sense of Purity clouds your mind as others, then I pity you. To Azoth, I always deemed you Impure, and I doubt you still dwell in the City. However, if you do receive this, then you too are welcome to the College anytime to continue your lessons. Your Purity was never the issue, Apprentice; it was your lack of forethought, and your abundance of stupidity. Kalenz, I thank you for being the one to clear your eyes of this illogical nonsense, and allowed me passage, even as I wore a mask. You, Kalenz, are one I wish I better acquainted myself with. I wish you maehr'sae hiylun'ehya. To Silvos, as much as we don't meet eye to eye, I will always respect you. Not like a Maln, nor such a figure, but as a llir; to you, maehr'sae hiylun'ehya. Lastly to Iatrilemar, I thank you for giving me homestead, and aiding me in my own studies. I thank you for everything you've provided, and I wish you a continuous, healthy life. You are maybe the only Mali that I have ever considered a friend. Maehr'sae hiylun'ehya, llir."

 

"Maehr'sae, hiylun okarae'erih'ehya lye kaean'leh thilln."

 

The letter is sent to multiple people, each of which are detailed in the overall note.

Kalameet sits in the room of darkness. The note finished, now in multiple envelopes prepared to be delivered; splayed out in front of Kalameet are a set of four masks, each depicting a specific, and root emotion. Joy, Anger, Sadness, and a mask lacking emotion. Gingerly, Kalameet lifts the mask of sadness, leaning back, the seat groaning once more. Kalameet holds it up, the ebony orb illumination it. Emotionless, Kalameet sighs, he lowers the mask, turning it to place it upon his mask-like face. Kalameet connects the two sections of the straps on the back of his head, twisting the locking mechanism, a click echos through the dark hall, the mask now firmly on Kalameets face.

 

Like a drain that has been clogged for years, suddenly springing free; Kalameet croaks, the sudden burst of emotion running through him. His eyes begin to burn, slowly he leans his head back, something forming in both his eyes. Tears begin to form, slowly gathering at the edges of the eye holes of his mask, slowly trickling down the surface of the mask. Kalameet releases a soft bellow, a groan of absolute sadness irradiates from his slightly gaped maw.

Kalameet begins to weep.

[Stag 3231]

((Not mentioned... Took you in to my home. No love bro. No love))

 

*Iatrilemar lets out a ghastly sneeze*

[Moot 1719]

((Not mentioned... Took you in to my home. No love bro. No love))

 

*Iatrilemar lets out a ghastly sneeze*

((You didn't read carefully enough, then.))

"Lastly to Iatrilemar,

I thank you for giving me homestead, and aiding me in my own studies. I

thank you for everything you've provided, and I wish you a continuous,

healthy life. You are maybe the only Mali that I have ever considered a

friend. Maehr'sae hiylun'ehya, llir."

 

[The Media Wizard 2958]

Azoth silently ponders the letter for a long moment, rolling his shoulders in thought. His dark eyes slowly lift up to view the dimly lit room which he calls his own.

 

"... Abundance of stupidity..."

 

Azoth smiles softly as he repeats his Master's words, his head inclining back down to the forest green ring that rests on his left hand's ring-digit.

 

"Well... I guess stupidity just comes with it."

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

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