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About Criala

  • Birthday 12/02/1992

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    Washington, USA
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    Jesus, Naruto, anime, video games, minecraft

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  1. Criala


    Mama always said it’s the choices made in life which show how we are as a person. Life has a way of taking unexpected turns, throwing one into situations they’d never even dreamed of. Outcomes one could never fathom. “When those times come, what would you do, amore?” “What do you mean, mama?” “Take the easy way out?” “Err…” “Would you run?” ┗.༻❁༺.┛ ┏.༻❁༺.┓ Who are these people? I've never seen their armor before. What do they want with my family? What could they possibly want? What do we do? What can we do right now? They all have weapons. Gracia... Ludovica... Cosimo... ┗.༻❁༺.┛ ┏.༻❁༺.┓ “Take a stand?” “I..” “With your head held high?” ┗.༻❁༺.┛ ┏.༻❁༺.┓ Shouts echoed through the Falcone family home. A gauntleted hand pointed a finger at Natalia. Slowly, she released her daughter. Given a rough shove forward, the illatian woman made her way towards the armored figure. Once in range, her arm was grabbed, and she was yanked forward. Her eyes locked with her husband's, something mouthed as she was dragged along. 'I love you, take care of our family.' ┗.༻❁༺.┛ ┏.༻❁༺.┓ Mama always said it's the choices that make who we are, show who we are. When she first told me, I didn’t understand it. I was just a young child after all. Now I do understand. My life has taken turns which I never dreamed of. Perhaps this was the biggest one of all. “Do you accept death?” “And if I don't?” “True love is selfless. It is prepared to sacrifice.” - Sadhu Vaswani
  2. Natalia read a new book given to her, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. [Reserved]
  3. Criala

    GOONART [Commissions]

    The best pixel art ever, definitely worth getting!
  4. Across the table within the dining room of the Tathvir Hall lay multiple things, most of it in a container to keep it from making a mess of the table. Blood, phlegm, biles and ectoplasm were all in containers. The herbs were laid out on a piece of paper. At the table was a mali’fenn woman. Long white hair pulled back partially to keep it out of the way. Her back was to the wall. After all, she never sat with her back to an open space. Turquoise trailed over each container and herb, a small eyeglass held within her hand. There was a slight noise, almost like the floor creaking. Only a slight falter to what she was doing. Normally, she would have paused fully, head snapping up to see who or what was near. But she was within the family home. It was a place of safety. “What’re you doing, Haelun?” The voice, however, caused Estellise to pull her attention from the herb she'd been looking at. A tall mali stood to her left, hair white, light brown skin and turquoise eyes that matched her own. “Identifying the signs for these.” Estellise motioned to the items set out across the table. “Signs?” Sulion asked, tilting his head ever so slightly as he glanced at each container and each herb upon the table. “Ti.” Estellise nodded her head, turning it to look back at the task at hand. “It’s alchemy.” Another voice reached Estellise’s ears. “Hello, Rhae.” She said, giving a brief glance up, before her focus returned to the items. “Hi, Haelun.” A pale woman with white hair and electric blue eyes was now making her way around the table, skirting around Sulion. “Hi, Sul.” “Hey, sis.” He offered in return, dipping his head to her. Rhaella’s attention was on the containers on the table, a hand reaching out to try to grab one. “Don’t even think about it, Rhaella.” Estellise spoke, without even looking at Rhaella. “I’m not doing anything!” Rhaella continued to reach for one of the containers, the one full of ectoplasm, fingers wiggling at it. “You can’t eat them.” One of Estellise’s hands shot out to swat at Rhaella’s hand, not pulling her attention from what she was doing. “Have you tried?” A cheeky grin spread across her face, though she pulled her hand back. For now at least. “No.” Estellise replied easily, a hint of amusement flashing across her face. “You’re weird, sis.” Sulion shook his head at Rhaella, moving to occupy the seat to Estellise’s right, resting his arms on the table in front of him. “Normal is boring.” Rhaella slipped into the seat to Estellise’s left, her eyes still on the container of ectoplasm. A set of footsteps could be heard, though no voice accompanied them. Just the sound of them, and soon the sound of someone sitting at the head of the table. A pale woman with semi-short white hair, blue eyes and clad in black. A curious gaze drifted over those at the table, then the items spread out across it. Before Estellise could offer an answer, another walked into the room, and her gaze shifted to the doorway. This time, a mali’fenn man with white hair and turquoise eyes. An ‘aheral woman with pale blond hair and blue eyes was being dragged along with him by the hand. “Well, what’s going on here!” Arevthor asked, a bright grin spreading on his face as he made his way to a seat across the table from Estellise, Rhaella and Sulion. He patted the seat beside him for Neia to sit. “Alchemy ingredients. I’m identifying the signs for them.” Estellise, yet again, dropped her attention to the items in front of her. The small eye glass was held up, her head dipping down to look over the previously set down herb. “What sign is this one?” Sulion asked, nodding his head to the herb. “Let’s see…” Estellise trailed off, taking a few minutes to look over it more thoroughly. “Earth.” “Earth.” Sulion echoed, nodding his head. “Will all the herbs be earth?” Estellise set the herb to the side, proceeding to take the time to look over each of the herbs with the eye glass. After she was done with each one, it was set to the side. “Yes, all earth.” “What about that?” Rhaelle pointed a finger at the container of ectoplasm which she hadn’t taken her eyes off of. “What is it?” “Ectoplasm.” Estellise answered, taking the container and setting it in front of her. Using the eyeglass, she looked over the ectoplasm. “Aether.” “What about that one?” Arevthor squinted at the container of phlegm. “What is that?” “Phlegm.” Estellise wrinkled her nose a bit, swapping out the container of ectoplasm for the one of phlegm. Again, she took the eyeglass to look it over. A few minutes of silence before Arevthor got his answer. “Water.” “Interesting.” Arevthor hummed, before falling silent. “That one?” Valerica nodded her head towards the container of blood, voice soft as she spoke. “Ah, the blood.” Estellise moved the container of phlegm so she could place the container of blood in front of her. Eyeglass in hand, she looked over the blood. The sound of a container being picked up reached her ears, and Sulion going ‘sis’ from her right. “Also water.” She pulled her attention away from the blood container to look to her left. What she found was Rhaella, opening the lid of the container and her finger already dipped into the ectoplasm. ”Rhaella!” Upon being caught, Rhaella quickly shoved her finger in her mouth, as Estellise reached out to take the container away from her. “I swear…” Estellise mumbled, setting the container far out of Rhaella’s reach, in front of Sulion. A knock on the door had Valerica pulling herself up from her seat. “I’ll get it.” With that, she headed for the front door. “Your fault if you get sick.” Estellise commented to Rhaella, putting the lid back on the container. “Worth it!” Rhaella chimed, after she licked her finger clean of ectoplasm. With a sigh and a shake of her head,, Estellise took the container of biles now, setting it in front of her. As she lifted the spy glass to look it over, the sound of two sets of footprints reached her ears, one heavier sounding than the other. “And this one is fire.” She said, now setting the spy glass down. When she looked up, Valerica was accompanied by a tall, bearded man. Right as she was about to open her mouth to greet him, the sound of a chair screeching across the floor and the sound of Rhaella retching on the floor. “She ate th’ ectoplasm, didn’ she?” Hareven asked, looking right at Rhaella as she threw up all over the floor. “You guessed it.” Estellise nodded her head, letting out a sigh.
  5. Cracks began to form, threatening to spread and cause Natalia Marie Falcone to break completely. Carmine, Dante, Gracia… They were what kept the crumpling woman together and going. Empty. Trying to keep busy and keep her mind off of it didn’t work. Everything was a reminder. And for once, her own mother’s advice fell short. ‘Keep busy, amore. It’ll help.’ But it wasn’t. It didn’t. No matter how she busied herself, it wasn’t enough. ┗.༻❁༺.┛ I ┏.༻❁༺.┓ A stack for four letters sat on the table, addressed to Cosimo. The first two came rather close together, the third a couple years later, and the final the next year. All were left unopened, untouched aside from being placed there. The handwriting wasn’t hard to recognize. Ludovica. The widow wasn’t able to bring herself to open any of them. The written letters that made up his name reached into the still fresh wound and tore it open again, leaving it just as raw as that first moment. “I’m s-sorry, Ludo.” She whispered, a crack of her voice happening in the middle of the words. One last glance at the stack of unopened letters, then she left the room, her hand pressed to her face in an attempt to keep herself composed. ┗.༻❁༺.┛ II ┏.༻❁༺.┓ A book rested on the bedside table. The binding was worn, showing it was well read. One of Natalia’s most prized possessions. A gift from Cosimo, and so she rarely put it down when he gave it to her. Now, it was a source of comfort, held close and tight to her chest, as if a lifeline. Sequestered away in the vineyard, within what had been her and her husband’s bedroom, she was often curled up with that book. The feel of the pages beneath her fingers helped calm her sometimes, as did going through any clothing he had left there. Nothing of his was cleaned out, left exactly as he’d left it. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. If she did, it was almost like saying it was the truth. That he really was gone. And that was something she couldn’t handle right now. ┗.༻❁༺.┛ III ┏.༻❁༺.┓ A slow, shaky breath was sucked in, attention on the envelope on the table. A response from her mother no doubt, to the letter Natalia sent her mother. It took her a couple of minutes to actually open it. This was a reality that she was still trying to deny, trying to ignore the truth she felt in the pit of her stomach. ‘I am sorry to hear such. It is never easy to lose the one we love. Focus on your children now. Keep busy, amore. It’ll help. Help keep your mind off of it.’ It seemed so easy for her mother to say, when she wasn’t the one who had her other half ripped away from her. Sure, her own father was gone, but her mother didn’t appear that affected by it. ┗.༻❁༺.┛ IV ┏.༻❁༺.┓ Natalia Marie Falcone née Cristelli. The only daughter of Emilio Aldo Rossi and Gianna Sofia Rossi née Cristelli. The story of how they met was one she heard often when she was a child. Yet, so different from how she met Cosimo. While her and Cosimo’s meeting was when they were barely adults, her mother and father grew up together from when they were children. From the way her mother told it, the two felt a spark from the start, and so it blossomed into a romance when they were teenagers. Barely adults when they were wed, but they loved each other, so it was a celebration of love and bringing the pair together. Maybe a year later, Gianna was with child, but despite care taken, her labor came a month and a half early. A son born to the couple, which they named Matteo. Unfortunately, the infant only lived to be a couple of days old before passing on. It was a devastating loss to the both of them, Gianna falling into a depression, barely able to get out of bed. Emilio coped with alcohol, the bottom of a bottle the only thing he saw. A struggle for them to keep themselves together, individually and as a pair, but Gianna recalled what her mother told her. “l'amore richiede lavoro, figlia mia.” As time went on, Gianna and Emilio appeared to be doing better. She was smiling, though if one paid close attention, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Emilio stopped drinking, now drowning himself in whatever work he found. Things continued on like this until some time later, Gianna brought news to her husband. She was pregnant again. Exciting news, but of course, a shadow loomed over the pair. Afterall, they both feared what happened with their son happening with this pregnancy as well. Much to the relief of both parents, a healthy baby girl was born to them. Natalia Marie Cristelli. As she grew, her eyes changed to hazel with flecks of green in them. Her hair grew long, and brunette. Neither parent had that eye color, and Emilio could only ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his head for so long. It sparked an argument, and it grew heated. That was when it came out. Emilio wasn’t Natalia’s biological father. A man by the name of Giosue Romano. Some man that Gianna ran into during a walk. A mistake that was made while she was trying to work through Matteo’s loss, while Emilio was off drinking. A young Natalia, maybe six years old, made an appearance there. And there was a change in Emilio. Disdain, anger, disgust. All of these flashed across his face when he looked at her. His fists clenched, and he glared at her. “Papà, cosa c'è che non va?” “Non sono tuo padre!” Emilio didn’t leave his wife, but the soft father he once was was gone. Distance and hatred replaced that father. It was the same for Gianna. Her once kind and loving husband was gone. He couldn’t even look her in the eye. Natalia was left confused, and the only answer Gianna offered was that grown ups sometimes change. Life carried on this way, and Emilio returned to drinking. Often, he came home drunk. Natalia learned the hard way to avoid him when he was like that. Slapped across the face one time when her mother was at the market. She made no mention of it to Gianna though, and neither did Emilio. Even amidst all of that, Gianna remained a dutiful wife and mother. Dinner was always prepared, even if Emilio didn’t show up. Most of it would get eaten at least. The only thing Natalia could remember from that night, aside from Emilio grabbing her, was a loud clang. A pan hitting Emilio in the back of the head, causing his hold on her to loosen. And the shout of her mother after such. “Non toccare mia figlia!” ┗.༻❁༺.┛ V ┏.༻❁༺.┓ Another look was sent to the stack of letters on the table, which were still unopened. A pang in her chest, a hand lifting to grasp at her other one. A ring glinted in the light from her left ring finger. After a moment, she turned away from the stack, making her away into a different room. She came back with some paper, seating herself at the table. A writing utensil was grabbed, put to paper. Her hand shook a little, but she did her best to keep it steady. Once done with writing, a name was scrawled across the front of an envelope. Ludovica. The letter was soon sent off, and perhaps, it would reach Ludovica. If it did or not, Natalia wouldn’t know.
  7. Outside of the Tundrak bloodline hall a package was left. If opened, one would find a set of six statuettes. There was no note on the package or inside of it. They were carved out of birch wood. Upon closer inspection, one would find that each statuette had been carved to the likeness of certain elves. Aesilnoth, Idril, Visenya, Annatar, Elanor and Rhaella. The base of each one was five by five inches, with a height of roughly ten inches. The one of Aesilnoth was carved with its left arm out, so it could wrap around the shoulders of the one of Idril. The right arm was carved outward as well, so the hand could rest on the left shoulder of the Rhaella one. In front of Aesilnoth and Idril were Visenya and Annatar. Idril's hands were carved to have one hand on Annatar's shoulder, and the other on Visenya's shoulder. Elanor was in front of Rhaella, a hand reached out to be clasped within one of Rhaella's, the other touching Visenya's. Rhaella's free hand was also reached out to be resting on Visenya's other shoulder. The only sign of a maker's seal was a small rose carved upon the bottom of it.
  8. Criala


    "A letter?" A mix of confusion and curiosity laced the Lilac druid's words at the appearance of the letter. Closing the door to the burrow, she turned to venture deeper into the home. She opened it, teal scanning over each written word. A frown of concern spread across her face. The letter was reread multiple times, the pain and guilt within the written words felt deeper each time. "Hareven..." She reached out for her staff, which had been resting against the wall nearby. With staff in hand, she called out into the burrow, as she planned for a journey to the Owl's Perch Tavern. "Cal, I'm going out for a bit."
  9. Criala


    Leilani's mother senses screamed on the inside, sensing something was not right with two of her daughters. Rosalia was blissfully unaware of the situation her sisters were in, telling her son of his aunts.
  10. Clear sky, birds chirping and hardly a breeze in the air. A figure stood just outside of the clinic, within the Garden of Healers. Her frame was petite, long brown hair hanging to her waist. Two words caught her attention. Illynora Sylvaeri. “I tried my best to make you proud, sister.” A murmur beneath the woman’s breath. After a moment, she tore her emerald gaze away from the words, shifting to the next set of words. These ones ripped into her soul, burning a hole into her, which was soon filled with guilt. Eraami Aureon Reeyse. “But all I did was let you down.” The guilt was evident in her face and words. Almost instantly, she tore her gaze away from those, continuing down the line until she stopped at a specific name. Medli Amaeden. “I let you down most of all, Medli. And for that, I am sorry.” Forgiveness isn't something she expected from Medli. After all, she vanished without a trace, opting to leave the burdens of running the Aegrothond Clinic and lessons on her own behind her. She pulled herself away, taking a step back before turning to completely leave the garden. Enough time spent getting lost in the past and the guilt of it. Now it was time for her search. Thoroughly, the city of Elvenesse was searched, a glance sent at every house with a name on it. None were the one she was looking for yet. No, it took time for her to find Medli’s home. When she did, she stopped at the door, but she didn’t knock. Instead, she stuck an envelope against the door. Once sure that it wasn’t going to fall to the ground, she departed. Should the envelope be opened and the letter inside unfolded, it would read... ━━━━༺❀༻━━━━ ‘Medli, There’s many things I could say here, but I’ll start with I’m sorry. It’s not something I’m proud of, vanishing on you all like that. I ended up overwhelmed, with all the duties of the Clinic falling on me. No matter the reason, it wasn’t right of me to disappear like that. I hope you can forgive me one day, though I don’t expect you to. I’m so proud of what you accomplished though. I know Illynora would be too. If you ever need anything, I am a bird away. Yours, Eraami ━━━━༺❀༻━━━━
  11. Quiet. Still. If one were to walk in, at first glance, they would think the hall empty. But, venturing further inside, one would find a lone figure. A ‘fenn woman. White hair hung down just past her shoulders, frame clad in black. Before Valerica was a wooden plaque, one in the shape of an otter. Icy blue eyes lingered on a marble set within the plaque, hand lifted up to fiddle with a ring hanging from her necklace. She knew what was on the back, right behind that marble. The letters R T. Rothilion Tathvir. Her face twitched, an expression of pain and sorrow almost seeping through the blank facade she so carefully had in place. Emotions were something she seldom showed, especially lately. But, for him, for Rothilion, they began to slip through the cracks, as much as she tried to keep it at bay. The ring dropped back against her chest, fingers reaching out towards the marble. Just barely a brush of her finger tips against the smooth surface. “I love you, Snowflake.” Too long it’d been since she’d heard those words, but they were still clear in her mind, as if he’d just said them yesterday. “I love you too.” So low, that it was barely audible even to herself. Once again, the room fell into silence, and she was alone with her thoughts. An arm looping through her right snapped her out of her thoughts, her head turning to find another ‘fenn woman. Long white hair, turquoise eyes and clad in dark teal and gold. Estellise let herself lean against Valerica’s arm, offering silent comfort. After all, sometimes all you need is someone to be there, even if there’s nothing to say. Before Valerica had the chance to do more than give a slight smile, she felt someone take her left arm. A look to her left showed yet another ‘fenn woman. Long white hair, electric blue eyes and one ear. Rhaella tightened her hold on Valerica as well, causing the woman to be effectively squished between her and Estellise. Another set of footsteps came up behind the three. A ‘fenn man. Short white hair, turquoise eyes, features that bore a striking resemblance to the three ‘fenn women. Arevthor scooted around them, so he could pull the three into his arms, as best he could. Silence soon settled around the four, but it was the words not said that were the loudest. No matter what, you have us.
  12. We just can't keep it this a secret anymore. It was bound to come out eventually. Our Prince, Vytrek, is a snow elf in appearance. But, in reality... We just can't hide it anymore that he's really a carrot.
  13. It wasn’t unusual for Cosimo Anthony Falcone to be absent sometimes. A year or so here and there was common. Sometimes even a handful. After all, he was a busy man with duties to attend to. Natalia Marie Falcone understood that about her husband, ever the devoted wife and mother in said absences. No matter what, she was always there, waiting for his eventual return. And he always would return, even if it had been a few years since he last appeared, because family was important to him. ┗ ༻❁༺ ┛ I ┏ ༻❁༺ ┓ “One day, you will a’meet someone, and you will a’know, amore.” An older Illatian woman spoke, running a brush through her daughter’s long, brunette locks. “What do you mean, mama?” The young Illatian girl, seated in front of her mother, asked. She tried to turn her head to look over her shoulder, but her mother turned her face forward once again. “You will a’know what I mean in time.” Her mother answered, taking the brush to the young Illatian girl’s hair once more. “Okay, mama.” Confused the young girl was, but she didn’t press the matter. ┗ ༻❁༺ ┛ II ┏ ༻❁༺ ┓ Silence, save for the breathing of the Illatian woman. She stood in front of the bedroom window, hands in front of her. Her left partially tilted upward, while the fingers of her right turned the ring on her left ring finger. Surely, he was just away on business, as he often was. But this… This time felt different. Something gnawed at her, a heaviness settled in her stomach, despite how she tried to brush it off. ┗ ༻❁༺ ┛ III ┏ ༻❁༺ ┓ Osanora was a temperature the young Illatian woman wasn’t used to, evident by the coat she was bundled in. Warm… It was just so warm. Warm enough that her coat was undone and left open to get some air. A pause to look around, until her hazel gaze fell upon the tavern. Not a moment was wasted, and she was soon walking inside. It was empty, aside from a young man with long hair and a mustache seated at the bar. Not even a bartender was present. "...Issa empty?" It came out as a question, her form easing down to take a seat at the bar as well. “Eh?” With a raised brow, the young man turned to her, bemused. However, once he faced her, his tone shifted. “Oh.” A slight stammer over the word. “No, signora. There's a guy. He's- coming back soon.” He faced the counter once again, after a clearing of his throat. Elbows on the counter, his hands clasped together. “So, he says.” For a brief few seconds, she was silent, as their gazes met. But she snapped out of it when he looked at the counter. "Ah, so there issa someone here. I wasn't sure since it wassa so empty." She nodded her head, clearing her throat. "Wonder if he will be.." "Si. Probable. Iss been a while though." A margarita was in front of him, 3/4ths full and condensated from the chilled beverage beginning to acclimate to the heat. He nudged the glass over to her, perhaps in case the bartender did not return. "Si quieres." "If issa been a while, then perhaps he will not be back..." A hand lifted to brush the brown locks from her face, an effort to cool her face down. A glance to the drink, before she shrugged a little and grasped the cup to lift it to her lips. "Gracias." Once done with her sip, she pushed the cup back towards him. It continued on like that, the two pushing the drink back and forth to share it. Idle conversation in between drinks, questions such as where they were from and introductions. He lifted his hand, offering it out to her to shake while introducing himself. “I’mma Victor.” Though she’d come to find out later that it was an alias. “I’mma Natalia.” She reached out to take his hand, her fingers wrapping around it to shake. Time almost stopped for her, during that shake, however brief it was. ┗ ༻❁༺ ┛ IV ┏ ༻❁༺ ┓ Tears welled up in her eyes, her bottom lip quivering. It was a struggle to keep herself composed, but she knew if any tears fell, they wouldn’t stop. So fondly and clearly, she recalled when she first met Cosimo. They’d been two young, inexperienced barely adults that happened to find each other, in an empty little Cantina, as if God himself fated it to be. Her mother had been right. When you meet someone, your other-half, you know. You feel it. ┗ ༻❁༺ ┛ V ┏ ༻❁༺ ┓ Nerves threatened to eat the young Illatian woman alive. Nervous, but excited, for this was the last day as Natalia Marie Cristelli. No, after today, she would finally be Natalia Marie Falcone. It was a day she’d been looking forward to since Cosimo first proposed. Every so often, she peeked around the corner. Cosimo was there, greeting each person as they entered. Natasha, Anton, Ludovica as well as many faces and names not known to Natalia yet, but would be soon. Viktor, Augustina, Victoria. Only once Cosimo disappeared deeper into the Cathedral, with everyone, did Natalia slip from the room she was tucked away in. A guard told her where to wait, and so she did, right outside of the sanctuary, in the foyer. “Miss Natalia, you can come out now!” That was her cue, from the guard. Her eyes met Cosimo’s as she made her way down the aisle toward him and Cardinal Gawain. A bright smile spread across her features, a light pink darkening her cheeks. She stopped across from Cosimo, the smile only growing as she looked at him. Her heart swelled, pounding within her chest. The vows were given, the I dos said, and now it was time for the rings to be exchanged. “Cosimo, take a ring. You as well, Natalia.” Natalia reached out, taking one of the rings from the pillow. A brief glance up as she did so. Once she had her ring, Cosimo took the remaining one. He slipped it onto her ring finger, and she slid the one she took onto his. “Now if you would kneel…” Cardinal Gawain motioned for the pair to do so. Cosimo was the first of the two to kneel, resting his hand on his knee. As instructed, Natalia grasped the end of her dress, so she could adjust it to be able to kneel. Cardinal Gawain took a small vial, opening it to dip his fingers into it. He crossed the Lorraine onto Cosimo’s forehead, allowing the holy water to drip down onto his clothes. Immediately afterward, he did the same for Natalia. “As with these holy waters of Gamesh sealing their vows of God, you both may now rise! Now rise as Cosimo and Natalia Falcone!” Cosimo rose then, out of his knelt position. He twisted the ring around his finger, then sent a wry smile Natalia’s way. Natalia eased herself up, soon letting her dress skirt flow down to her ankles once again. A smile was sent Cosimo’s way. ┗ ༻❁༺ ┛ VI ┏ ༻❁༺ ┓ “God brought you salvation once, mi amore.” The words were whispered, a crack to the woman’s voice as they came out. A pleading tone laced her words. “He can’t a’take you from us.” Always, he came back. Always. “Carmine, Dante, Gracia... Our children a’need their father too.” No matter how many times, he was away. This time was no different, right? “You can’t a’take him from me…” Her voice softened, down to a whisper. This time isn’t like the others. Something isn’t right. She could feel it with every fiber of her being, straight down to her core. Tears began to dribble down her cheeks, a shaky breath exhaled out. Her shoulders shook, and she hunched into herself. Crumbling to the ground, she pressed her face into her hands.
  14. ‘Wyrvun’s Landing’ “So, this is the tavern.” It was a soft murmur from an ‘aheral woman, head tilted up to look at the writing on the sign. Her frame clad in a long sleeve dark red shirt, dark trousers and a pair of boots. Just barely peeking out of the very tip of the shirt’s neckline was the head of a phoenix, done in crimson. A sword was sheathed at her left hip »»————- ✼ ————-«« Her shoulders shook, teeth chattering a little from the cold, something she wasn’t quite used to yet. But it wasn’t unwelcomed. There was something about the snow and cold of the city, something within it, that brought a feeling of being at home almost. It was the ‘aheral woman’s first visit to the Fennic city. After all, it was just down the road from Irrinor, so why not right? Her exploration brought her in front of a building, blue gaze scanning the sign above the doorway. ‘The Silver Snowflake’ Walking through that doorway changed her life forever. That tavern was where she met a certain ‘fenn. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done with LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── He was behind the bar, serving drinks to patrons seated at the bar and at tables throughout the tavern. As she entered, he gave a nod of his head and flashed a grin her way, before going back behind the bar. She dipped her head to return the greeting, before making her way to where the fireplace was. Flames licked at the edges of the stone, but didn’t spread out from it. She settled down onto the couch in front of it, enjoying the warmth radiating from it. “Not used to the cold?” The voice came from her left, slightly behind her. It caused her to jolt, head snapping to look up and behind her. Standing behind the couch was the ‘fenn who’d been serving drinks. “Didn’t mean to startle you!” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, it’s okay.” A sheepish smile tugged at her lips. “Not really, haven’t spent a lot of time in the tundra.” “Well, welcome to it, I guess!” The grin remained, looking right at home on his face. “Ahernan, I guess!” She couldn’t help her smile widening. His grin was contagious. “I’m Arevthor.” He reached his hand out to her for her to shake. “I’m Neia.” She lifted her hand, taking his hand to shake it. »»————- ✼ ————-«« The Tathvir Hall was attached to the Tavern and above the Clinic, as she came to find out. Arevthor led her there one day, through the Clinic and up the lift there. “Sure this is okay?” She asked, glancing at Arevthor. “Of course.” He pulled a key from his pocket, using it to unlock the door. Once it was unlocked, he let her in first. She stepped in, soon finding herself in the main living room of the hall. A couch and a couple of seats, along with a rug laid out in front of a fireplace. “Cozy.” She commented, attention falling on the fireplace. “It is!” He nodded, his signature grin on his face. He made his way further into the room, and instead of sitting on the couch, he plopped himself down on the rug. He patted the spot across from him. “Come on!” She followed suit, easing herself down in front of him. “You’re welcome here anytime.” He said, pulling another key from his pocket to hold it out to her. The action stunned her to silence, her mouth hanging open just a touch, and her eyes wide. It took a moment, but she reached out to take the key from him. Her features softened, a smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you.” “Of course.” The smile was returned with one of his own. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── »»————- ✼ ————-«« ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── “It’s not often I don’t find you in the city.” The voice cut through the silence. He didn’t even have to look to know who it was. It was one he knew so well by now. “Empty day in the tavern. Need to get away every so often, get some quiet time to think!” “That is a good point. Quiet can be good sometimes.” There was rustling of grass beside him. A glance to his right told him she’d sat not too far from him. “It can.” He nodded his head, before turning his attention back to the horizon. The two of them sat there in a comfortable silence. »»————- ✼ ————-«« Often, the two sat in front of the fireplace in the Tathvir Hall. A calm and comforting atmosphere. “I have something for you.” She spoke up, during one of these times, amidst a comfortable silence. A curious glance was sent her way. “What’s that?” “You’ll see!” A hand shot into her satchel, rummaging around before pulling out a package. It was almost a square shape, but not quite. She held it out to him. With a quirked brow, he took it from her and began to open it. Within was a blanket. Little books, quills and instruments were stitched on it, with the background of it being a shade of light grey. “I made it for you.” A shy smile came to her lips, her hand lifting to rub the back of her neck. “You did?” He tore his gaze from the blanket, so he could look at her. “Yeah.” A slight nod of her head. “Thank you.” He murmured. Unlike his usual wide grin, a soft smile spread across his face. He unfolded the blanket to wrap it around his shoulders. Then he held open the right side of it, motioning her over. “Are you-” Before she could finish, he cut her off. “Yeah, yeah, get over here.” He chuckled. “Okay, okay.” She scooted over, so she was sitting right next to him. The blanket dropped around her shoulders, a yawn escaping her. She settled down against him, head dropping against his shoulder. It wasn’t long before she dozed off. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── »»————- ✼ ————-«« He was on his way down the road to Fenn when he saw something off. An armored man, walking down the road at a brisk pace. But it wasn’t the armor that caught his attention. It was who was over the individual’s shoulder. Slung over the man’s shoulder, unconscious, was her. He’d recognize the pale blonde hair anywhere. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── He snapped into action, pacing after them as fast as he was able. Unfortunately, he lost them when the man tossed her into a boat and rowed away. But he wouldn’t give up. He didn’t give up. With a boat of his own, he set off after them, with only one thought on his mind. »»————- ✼ ————-«« When she awoke, the armored man was there, but her mind was foggy, and her hands were tied behind her back. Searing pain engulfed her face, centered from her nose. It was broken, there was no way it wasn’t with the way he slammed her face down into that chest plate. Blood was smeared across her cheek and chin. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── The man before her soon revealed his name to be Thrandil. Honestly, she’d rather he kill her if that was what he was going to do. And that appeared to be his plan, when he wrapped his hand around her throat. But he didn’t squeeze, his hand drifting up to her jaw. Her head was turned this way and that. “You are quite beautiful.” He commented, looking over her features. “A perfect ‘thill.” “I’ve ‘fenn blood too. My grandmother was a mali’fenn.” A quick lie on the spot, in hopes of repulsing him. Much to her dismay, it had the opposite effect. “Exotic.” was all he said to it as he turned her head, so her left cheek was exposed to him. Her plan backfired. Any hope of getting away from this man left her. He brushed her hair behind her left ear, letting a finger trace it, before giving a slight pinch. His next words to her were whispered. “Consider yourself lucky. I am a mali’ of passion. Your beauty has saved you, thill.” With that, he released her entirely. He moved to the side, pushing at the top of her back to move her forwards. Because of this, she was hunched somewhat where she sat. The sound of something being unsheathed reached her ears. Despite his ‘resurrance’ of her being ‘saved’, her blood ran cold. But the blade sliced through the ropes around her wrists, her arms free and hanging limp at her sides, tingling all over. He picked up his pack and his helm, which he pulled back onto his head. The dagger was left in the dirt near her, and his parting words were something to haunt her for years. “You’ll be seeing me again soon.” He was gone after that, and she was left there, to dread any day she might run into him again. »»————- ✼ ————-«« It took what felt like forever to find her, but he finally did. She was slumped against a tree trunk, her pale face already bruising from the abuse it suffered. “Neia!” He called out, jogging over to her. Once there, he knelt partially down beside her. “...Arev?” Her eyes slowly opened to peek up at him. Relief spread across her features when she saw it was, infact, Arevthor. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she latched onto him, the tears flowing into the fabric of his sleeve. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── “It’s okay, I’m here.” He murmured to her, wrapping an arm around her, so he could scoop her up to carry her back home. »»————- ✼ ————-«« ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── “I passed the trials for Csarathaire.” She said, looking rather proud of herself. A sword was now sheathed at her hip. “Ah, that’s great!” There was that grin again. The contagious one. “Thanks!” A small grin of her own snuck onto her features. “I’m excited. I worked so hard.” “I bet you are, and I know you did.” He saw it coming, so he could have dodged out of the way, but he didn't. He was caught in her arms, pulled into a hug, and his arms wound around her to return it. »»————- ✼ ————-«« Time went by since she last saw him. On his way out of the city to take care of something was last she saw him. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Time went by. Many things happened in his absence. But it didn’t stop her from waiting and hoping that he would return one day. »»————- ✼ ————-«« Seeing him again was by chance, in Aegrothond, some odd years later. She’d been going down the path around the back of the tavern when she saw him. Her eyes widened, her stride slowing to a pause. It was almost as if she’d seen a ghost. He stopped when he went to walk by, only then noticing her. “Neia?” “Arev…” It was all that came out, her breathing somewhat shaky. “I thought… I thought you were… Were dead.” “Can’t kill me.” He cracked a grin, that same grin she’d known for so long. He opened his arms to her, and before he knew it, she’d dove into them. Her arms wound around him, clutching onto him for dear life. He held onto her the same, holding her to him. ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── Image found on Pinterest Effect done on LunaPic ────── ⋅❅⋅ ────── “Hey, I won’t die on you, not ever. Okay?” He muttered to her. “You better not.” Her voice cracked here and there, her hold not lessening at all. A smile came to the ‘aheral’s face, an almost fond look upon it. She stepped forward to make her way into the tavern. One thing she knew was that no matter how far or how long, the two of them would always meet again, no matter what.
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