F1F4

"The flame we shared, I believed it was just as mine." To the woman of many faces, Deulara thought and endured cut from the same afflicted sun as the woman; furious at injustice, unwilling to kneel before rot -- let alone flee from it. She thought, and thought. Sylvara, a dangerous woman because of her good-willed mask to rebuke the hollow in her sins. "Sylvara." The Dark Elf continued to enact a kick, and two other kicks struck a wall, and a punch, rageful enough to sever the reach of her hand, followed too. The silver-muddy thread coursing to her tendons, she punched once more. Nevertheless, only grimace latched onto her expression; where a lesser soul found no need for rage this time, and hardly ever these days. "What have you done?" "What line did you cross, convincing yourself the world would be purer for it, this time?"

Neat!!

No simple rush could convey the grown girl's anger properly, Mira'lean, Lorandil's daughter. Her eyes peered at the signature miserably tagged to the endline, a far too familiar name for comfort, and of course, it was her fleeing father. Her fingers pressed flat against the parchment. "...Hymnal is certainly a demon," She murmured to herself. "And due to his self-absorbing pride, the family has rotted for decades." Her jaw clenched, nevertheless. "...And, this is what you sincerely chose over me? " -- "I hardly witness a mention of me, except that you have forgotten, I am an Ana'halrae too, now, but instead you opted to name half your world for a call of blood." "You left me for revenge, and eventually, the reaper will tread back to you in some form, father." "Shame on you."

"Hail Azdromoth"

ᴄ ᴏ ɴ ᴛ ɪ ɴ ᴜ ɪ ᴛ ʏ ↠𝟣𝟢ᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴅ A hidden declaration, only found in Deulara Olazeiros’ mind. ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── ₁. At this time of hour, my blood thickens in a boil; a surprise to my cognition, I could argue. You were honest in a way few ever are, but that illuminated apparent came about once my potential no longer became a hypothetical to deepen. Before you, I could feign there existed lines I would not cross, ever in my life. And of course, I can recall what I was like before, and certainly the memory is not a watered-down, far-off recollection. ₂. I recall the disgust that surged to my core in the suggestion of blood magic’s existence in Aevos by my relative; the revulsion felt when I was bribed to take it so lightly, as though my cousin had really expected me to carve my lifespan to wield the magic. I refused it, and feared death for as long as my cousin lived. In confession, I was afraid of my cousin – humanly frightened at his mannerisms, his typical demeanor of aggression and his lack of emotional response. I have gone a little farther than they ever did, now, though. ₃. And now, I sit by our people’s clinic, the house of healing, anxiously tapping with my one-hand against my thigh as I stare at this patient of mine. I ask, when have I ceased to be frightened? I have buried the deserving of life, heal the restless and restore those broken and I, actually, do not regret any of it – I enjoy my traditional restoration methods and the general practice of healing and tending to, and I will continue to mend the hurt till the day my soul rests. Nevertheless, that is not the point. The point is, I learned hardly anything of glory and much of futility in the present aggression of the Black Church and those with; I have slain these wretched beasts that should have not walked twice, many daggers to the heart at hand’s reach and far too many decapitations, which ought to signify something, right? And then, to meet them once more as though my efforts have amounted to nothing. Nor even vengeance, and thus they return without recognition, disencumbered, unmolded by any consequences, and therefore they may, once more and perhaps infinitely, commit atrocities to our people. ⚬──────────✧──────────⚬ ⚬──────────✧──────────⚬ ₄. Whereas, warriors have felt the depletion of their life force, the pain of a fatal loss to a single mistake, do they possess no second breath to fight and protect their loved ones, once more? An heir struggles knowing that one error can occur and it is all over and there will be no second chance to make it right. Do you know what that does to a person? To stand over a demon, a skeleton-construct, a warlock once in victory, then face their empty-headed selves years later, reborn? Water seeping into stone till split, I feel rotted from the inside. There is something deeply wrong in their design. We are doomed to die, and to those who cause destruction, is granted continuity. ₅. At this point, I am something that has moved much beyond what I ever imagined I could; I had to be of mild justice, and I had to have a continuity of my own, to guard the innocent and the benevolent. ₆. God, be cursed you, friend. I speak of you. She did not coerce me into alteration of the soul with empty promises or a grand speech sufficiently entertaining. She did not deceive, fabricate or exaggerate what she attempted to sell to me; no false virtues were entertained either. A clear picture was given to me of what it required, what it jeopardised, and what it might confer, to be immortal. Continuity. Not as hollow, though, not as hollow as I grew to hate, as such demons and warlocks; where memory is washed. I will fall, and rise to protect my people, and heal the hurt. I will fall and rise to fight the immortal head-on till my soul finds rest. This way, lest one wrong step or word should spoil the work I struggled to achieve. ₇. Even then, would I have been untouched and still held up in my turn with equal weight? Likely not, honestly. This just meant I would not face the fear of finality again; I claim to be serving justice by standing as a pillar against those immortal beasts, but I must be willing to turn that same scrutiny to myself, alike. ₈. I did what I had to seriously do, but no simple conclusion is favoured to me by this world. Tahariae, the Aengul of Justice and Purity, is proof of that. As supported by my peers in the light’s calling, I stood to deliver his guilty verdict; a dereliction of the sort, the willful negligence of aiding Xan before his sorrowful death. The prosecutor’s arguments compelled me, and I was fearful for my life, regarding what may have been consequential to me. Had I opposed a deity to maintain what I knew was justice, I should not do it half-baked, but the last thing I expected was to be listened to, or guided, and what I did not anticipate was to be granted a gift in response to my apparently rightful sentencing – all of us received favour. ₉. What is your game, Staglord? ₁₀. Granted, I am aware of what I am in his architectural gilded codex, I have altered my soul and I am a being against the heavenly law – I am to be passed judgement over and there is no mercy in that to intent, and there exists NO boundary line dividing the transgressors that act out of self-interest and those who act for sacrifice and guardianship. I should already be judged, by all accounts. ₁₁. So then, what is this? On the contrary, I am directed to these… random heavenly ruins with deserving others by a string of light; a fibre of it. On that day, I had my student be granted a blessing, oh, how proud I was. I also bore witness to rejection, as abrupt as it was and surprising. And yet, unaltered, I was standing among the heavenly lawfully good. There is a reason why I am being permitted to follow the light, but I fear it is not a well-intended reason. One of two rationales, that I am being led to something I must maintain, or a place where I am to be exemplified. ₁₂. I am not sorry for what I have become. Be it necessary for your soul to be altered to ensure those defenseless and benevolent are protected from death’s harsh calling in the hands of the dark and evil, so shall it be. Should Tahariae, in all that he embodies, conclude that this is a perversion which must not be tolerated, then I, too, embody no intention to willfully evade that verdict. I chose to be this way voluntarily, nor shall I be a hypocrite. And well, of course, since the ultimate test of that certitude is to be led by an Aengul of Justice and Purity, a deity that I may resonate well with – yet be smited for adopting a form unbelieved by the Staglord, then there is a vindictive symmetry to which I will not disregard; to pass to the afterlife by a deity that does not acknowledge the meaning of my purpose, and not dying to the beasts I promised to aid in cleansing this world from, no matter how immortal they are. ₁₃. I wonder what you think of me now, sister. Where are you, Fallyn? ─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The effort in this piece was incredibly creative, productive and especially tremendous; I’m forever happy to be invited and involved in this project. One way or another, I’m rooting for this piece to be accepted and hopefully witnessed by a larger audience. Aelesh, and all the other contributors to this project really deserve that much love.

MC Name: F1F4 Discord: fifaaa. (F1F4) Image: Description of Image: This would be my character's bardmancy mana seal, though this map art is being requested for an amphitheatre. Dimensions: 1x1

really awesome dude!!

It will not be accepted inevitably unfortunately; however look forward to the rewrite/improved version of Saphiel worked on by myself, Aelesh and some others! :)

Passed with a halting step, a glance offered to the name she recognised plastered to the parchment. Her finger brushed over the name as she paused, frowning at the missive in reading it. ★ "Steer clear, Thalen. Every time your countenance turns solemn, it unsettles me." She muttered under her breath, in defeat, provided her current mental state. ★ "Take heed of yourself. Please. Your safety is no small comfort to me." » The elfess was gone, nowhere to be seen.

Yes, it's being reworked currently for its origins, and how it applies to the rest. Thank you so much for the compliments, and I'm really glad you actually enjoyed the concept of it.

Not at all! We're already working on it :)

Thank you for your input. I hope I'm able to clarify some things in this response. I believe calling it dense is fair; it is lengthy, and the way it was originally formulated was challenging to pursue, given the nature of the theme and the chosen deity. However, I do disagree that it lacks coherence, however. The concepts were intentionally connected through a clear chain. Each section was written to connect both narratively and mechanically, forming a consistent progression from origins to modern practice. That was before I found the hard way that Yeu was dead; however, the subject itself is about a fallen deity and divine intervention from Yeu Rthulu. Simplicity would undercut what it was meant to represent. And how Compassion and Contentment were able to fuse with the very idea of preservation, to influence continuity and protection as sisters to the primary theme. The star-theme is also not a 'costume'. It is part of the internal logic of preservation: the shard is the literal ancient remnants of the fallen deity - a deity that used preservation as a tool for destruction, which was then preserved by Yeu Rthulu to influence a larger gathering of followers without giving a shoutout to the fallen deity, mostly pity. The unification in names is also a chain of narrative storytelling; they are linked stages of forming the magic together. - Celestine > Celestial Shard > Modern Three Seats of Shards > Attunement, etc. After I had received feedback and proofread it, it seemed that coherence was present, and those who read it did understand the concept and the intention/niche it aims to provide. I had made many edits over the past few months to give it my best in regard to the content of this magic. Nonetheless, I do recognise that clarity can always be improved, and I will continue to try my best in reforming it and improving it for the enjoyment of those who have shown love for this type of magic, perhaps by rewriting some sections, adding OOC notes for clarification, etc. Again, thank you for your feedback, and I hope next time around won't disappoint.