Dresyvar Maehr’tehral turned the beet over continuously, the warm glow of the fire caressing his face in the chill of night. “What about you treats that wretched condition? I wonder...” His head turned so that he could gaze into the flames as they flickered, moving ever gracefully like a dancer on stage. He tossed the root gently and caught it before setting it aside. He looked again at the missive. “Okarir’mali Azorella Elibar’acal… What do you see in this plant that I can’t?” Repeating the name a few times to himself, he leaned back in his seat. “Maybe I’ll write a letter and ask to discuss her findings.” “Why would she even read a letter from you? You haven’t even finished your first book since arriving!” He argued, glancing at the open tome with quill laid nearby. “Wherever was the harm in posing the question? Surely she would be overjoyed to hear that someone has taken interest in her findings.” He pleaded, reaching for the quill. He sneered, snickering quietly to himself. “You’re a fool. Leave me out of this when you never hear back. I don’t want to hear it from you.” Clutching the quill, he quickly scribbled a rather lengthy letter. All that was left was to sign it. He picked up the letter and stood from his seat, moving closer to the fire. A sigh escaped his lips as he read it over once more. “You’re right.” With a quick motion he cast the letter into the fire. “Let’s return to that book. They seem to have this under control anyway.”
Shortly after the descendants landed on the peninsula of Atlas, Cirawynn Maehr’tehral gave birth to another child and named him Dresyvar. It was 1643 when that young Elf took his first breath. The birth went swimmingly, and life continued for some years thereafter. It wouldn’t be until his father’s a little later in his childhood that the waters would become rocky. Due to an unfortunate family history of premature mental degradation, his father would eventually succumb to his own madness. While not fully mature enough to truly understand what was happening to his father, he did have enough of a grasp on reality to identify death. With his mother in mourning, he turned to speaking with himself to quell his sorrow. It started with reminders that it would be okay. Over time, it turned into two-sided conversations with himself. Slowly, he rescinded into his own world of self-consolation. The lasting effects of death becoming increasingly apparent, he adopted a new hobby: he would dissect animals. He wanted to know what needed to cease function for death to occur. These two compounded, he would become estranged from his mother and brother. He pushed them further away from himself, reading his father’s notes and learning from them. He would learn some about Mali’aheral society, but most would be left to experience later in life. The conflict resulting in the dissolution of Haelun’or drove the Maehr’tehral family away from the main settlements. This would provide ample opportunity for an Elf to capture small critters but detract from his ability to learn the inner workings of High Elven social and political structure. He would remain separated from the rest of his race for the entirety of the Silver Enclave of Fi’halen. This period would result in a time of reflection and reading for a young, and still blooming, mind. Little more of importance would happen before the Descendants’ migration to Arcas, where his family would finally reconvene with Haelun’or.