Criala

The immense damage done to Eir'thall and Ara'nora's home was an incident that was known by everyone in the Father Circle, and not only that, but likely most of Elvenesse as a whole. 

However, if Eir'thall and Ara'nora went by their home, they would now find that the damage done to their home had been repaired. Fresh new support beams, new wood that wasn't splintered and the like. It was almost as if there had been no damage in the first place. There would have been no evidence of who had repaired the house left behind. Yet another mystery for the Grove. Just who had repaired their home?

Within the Father Grove, outside of Cullas’ house, were chickens. Anyone who walked by would likely know the chickens. One look at them showed they were well fed and well taken care of. Plump and round creatures, doing whatever it is that chickens do with their time. Probably only hanging on by a thread before having a heart attack.

However, if anyone happened to be nearby in the recent months and glanced at the chickens, they might notice that the chickens were even more rotund than before. The way they'd expanded was the only evidence that they'd been fed extra. So, just who has been feeding the chickens? Would the mystery ever be solved?
 

There was a pot within the 'aheral's hands as she walked. The pot wasn't anything fancy or special, just an ordinary small pot. Tucked in between her thumb and the palm or her hand was a trowel. Neia was walking through the Father Grove, looking for something by the way her gaze trailed here and there. Whatever she was searching for took her to the upper part of the Grove, down the path of Morea's Forest housing and into the forest at the path's end. 

It was only here that she stopped. An open space at the edge of the forest. A look around to see how far away the other trees were, then a look upward to see if there was space up there for a tree to grow and leaves to branch out. Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she nodded to herself and bent somewhat so she could set the pot down a short ways away. There was a small sapling just barely peeking out of the soil within the pot.

She knelt down onto her knees, taking the trowel properly into her hand. With the trowel in hand, she began to dig a hole in the dirt. Every so often she glanced at the pot, then back to the growing hole, to double check what size she was making the hole. 

After a short time, she stopped her digging. One last glance from the hole to the pot then back told her it was the right size. Reaching over with one hand, she grasped the edge of the pot and lifted it so she could place it beside the freshly dug hole. Carefully, and going slowly so that she didn't make a mistake, she used the trowel to scoop the sapling out, dirt and all. With it out of the pot, she lowered the trowel so she could transfer it into the hole. Once it was transferred, she used the trowel to pile the dirt over the sapling and back into the hole. All of the dirt was soon back in place, and she patted it down.

She eased herself up from her knelt position, taking the now empty pot with her. There were only some remnants of dirt left inside it now. There was a satisfied look on her face, seemingly proud of the final result.

One last look at the now planted sapling, and she was off, heading back down the path from which she came. "I haven't planted and grown anything in a long time, but this'll do the trick. Now to let Andria know when I see her again."

The woman’s steps were slow, not too fast so she didn’t miss what it was that she was looking for. Seaglass. Her task was to collect it and create a mosaic representing an aspect of Thalassa. The first few minutes were unsuccessful, but that didn’t stop her. She kept close to the shoreline, so it’d be easier to spot any seaglass. With that, her search continued, and soon it proved fruitful. The first bit of seaglass, which she didn’t hesitate to bend down and scoop up. A nod of her head as she looked it over, but this only lasted a few more seconds. As good as it was that she finally found some, one piece of seaglass wasn’t going to be enough for a full mosaic.

As she continued, many footprints had been left in her wake, showing the path she’d taken in her search. At this part of the shore, if there were any pieces of seaglass, they were super small or broken pieces that she wouldn’t have been able to use. It prompted a sigh from her.  Disappointing, but it didn’t cause any halt in her steps. She’d just keep going until she found more.

Even further down the shoreline, she was able to find an abundance of seaglass. Enough for any plans that she had for her mosaic. With all of the seaglass gathered, she took her leave, another set of footprints leading away from the beach left.

She didn’t stop until she found herself at home, seaglass in hand. Then she seated herself in the middle of the bedroom floor, where she would have plenty of room. Carefully, she set the seaglass beside her in a pile, so that none of it broke. She reached out a hand, taking one piece of the seaglass and setting it in front of her. As each piece was grabbed and placed with the first, she lost herself in the creation, not overthinking what it was she wanted. It was coming from within.

Some time later, all of her seaglass had been placed together. She breathed out a sigh, leaning back just enough so she could look over her work. It painted a picture of a feminine figure, bursting forth from the roaring waves of the sea. Her arms outstretched, and a look of victory on her face as if she’d just broken free from something that held her captive.
 

“How fitting.” She murmured to herself, appearing satisfied with the result. Now all that was left was to turn it into Medli.

IGN: Itsmearcher
Discord: Zadie#4764
Skin(s): Periwinkle
Bid: 60

Another patron entered the tavern of Elvenesse. A mali’ame man whose green gaze scanned the interior of the building. It was empty, except for a figure that was tucked into the way back corner, away from all the other tables. He didn’t approach yet though, taking a few minutes to observe her. Her attention was on a piece of parchment in front of her on the table, her back facing the wall.

It was something he’d noticed about her in the decades since he first met her. She never sat with her back to open spaces, and she often preferred to be by herself rather than in a large crowd. It may have come off as stand-offish or cold to others, but he knew better.

The first time he met her came to mind. A neutral expression on her face, but there was a pain in her eyes that was unmistakable. Her guard was up, and it was easy for him to see. The first time he saw it down was when he walked into the Aegrothond tavern in Arcas one day. A soft melody came from within, accompanied by a voice just as soft singing along to it. She had looked so at peace there, and his feet took him to the piano side. That was when he saw the women behind the mask. A woman who was lost and struggling to keep herself together. 

It was hard to believe how long ago that was, thinking back on it. The woman he first met was a different person than the one in that corner now, though there were pieces of that woman which lingered. The scars under the surface remained and hints of the pain that used to plague her. Not that he was surprised. It was expected with the past that haunted her and what she went through.

The look on her face changed ever so slightly, and he knew the meaning of it right away. Pulled back to where she was once again that lost woman, where her cries for help were hidden behind the walls she used to protect herself. Times where she was still struggling to keep herself from drowning and losing herself.

Without a second thought, at the sight of that shift in her expression, he strode forward to close the distance between himself and the table. By the time he was sliding himself into the seat beside her, she seemed to snap out of it. But that didn’t change anything. His hand still sought out hers to curl around it, which caused her head to turn from the parchment to look at him. Green met turquoise. He would always do what he could to keep her head above water, to keep her from drowning under her scars.

Art by Wolf-Fram

Blue eyes held a dull look, trailing along the walls of the woman’s bedroom. Seated in a chair was a high elven woman. Held in her right hand was a sword, black wisps emitting from the blade.

Even after so long, at times, it still felt like he was going to be around a corner, waiting. Waiting for the perfect moment to try to capture what he considered to be his prey. There had been a time where it almost seemed like there was going to be no end to his torment. It’d been years since she’d seen him. He was dead as far as she knew. That didn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of her mind, telling her to not let her guard down, to remain on alert. For he was a man that maybe even death would have a hard time stopping.

What if he showed up again one day? You thought he was gone before, Valerica. And then he appeared again. 

Her form grew even more tense at the thought. A slow sigh escaped her, fingers tightening around that hilt, her knuckles turning white. The line her lips thinned into left almost no space between them. Her free hand was on the arm of the chair, hand grasping the end of it. Her nails dug into the cushioned end, scratching at it. The fabric there began to fray, ever so slightly.

He wouldn’t leave you alone. He wouldn’t leave. He made you what you are now. A tool for murder. And it was so easy for him to do.

A snarl almost escaped, her face twisting. But her expression soon relaxed as the thought of Rothilion came to her mind. A light in the darkness she’d found herself in. The light she’d met in that Sutica tavern. Amidst how unsafe she had felt and the constant worry and paranoia of him showing up, Roth was her safe haven. A place where she didn’t have to feel that way, where she could feel safe and happy. Guidance to show her the way and where to go.

But he’s gone now, Valerica.

A hint of sadness washed over her face. There was an empty space left in her heart from when Rothilion had passed. It ached and ached, not lessening even with how many years since his passing. So long, too long, it had been since his sweet voice had called her ‘love’ or his ‘snowflake’. Without him being the one to say them, it just wasn’t quite the same. No one would be able to take his place in her heart.

Roth was the only good part of you. Look at the things you’ve done. The blood on your hands.

Out of instinct, her gaze shifted down to each of her hands. Deep crimson coated both of her hands. It even appeared to be dripping down the hilt of her sword, since it was clutched in her fingers. In the blink of an eye though, everything was back to normal. There was no blood on her hands or the hilt of her sword. Nothing at all.

Is there any hope for you to be good without him? Do you even want to be good?

A battle she often had with herself. Many people had fallen at her hands. So many people she’d hurt. All the things she’d done in the past… Could they ever be righted? There was also the fact of… people. Being good meant people, and she hated those. Everyone but a select few.. Rhaella, Estellise, Daemeon… They are worth the effort, aren’t they? The effort it would take to be good?

You couldn’t even keep your children alive, Valerica. How could you be good? 

A quiet, yet sharp, intake of breath, before it was slowly exhaled. None of her children were alive. She’d outlived all of them. Her shoulders curved forward somewhat, a slight slump forming as she leaned her weight against the left arm of the chair, her fingers relaxing so that her nails weren’t digging into the fabric there.

How could you ever hope to protect those you care about when you couldn’t even protect your children? Look how they ended up, where they ended up. 

Almost as soon as that thought had finished though, she shook her head, however slight a movement it was. No, that wasn’t true. Not all of her children were dead. Rhaella was still alive. Her niece by blood, but in actuality a daughter to her. Her God-daughter. So, she still had one of her children with her. One she would do anything for, sacrifice anything for. Her fingers started to fiddle with the ring around her left ring finger. The hilt of her sword was still clutched in her right hand.

What of Daemeon? Do you deserve him? After everything, do you deserve to be loved by him?

Her love for Daemeon was unwavering, and Daemon had pulled her out of that pit of despair she’d fallen into with Roth’s death, something she’d be forever grateful for. It was a struggle, as it always was, to not fall deeper and deeper. The few she cared about though, they were what kept her going, what kept her fighting off the thoughts she had. The ones that made her feel like she was  nothing more than her past. A cold-hearted murder. A tool to be used to take the lives of others. 

That is all you are, Valerica. It’s all there is to you. 

By now, she was doing her best to ignore the voice in the back of her mind. Whether what it was saying was true or not, she could look forward. Because of them, her loved ones, she was able to walk forward, try to move on from what she’d been in her past. Rhaella, Estellise, Daemeon, Rothilion, the rest of the Tathvirs…. They didn’t stop the internal battle she had going on, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time she fought within herself, but they made it worth it. She could keep going forward, even if it was only for them. 

Art by Numirya

Within the walls of the tavern in Elvenesse, in the far back corner away from the noise of the square outside, was a mali’fenn woman. Silence filled the air as Estellise was seated at a table, parchment laid in front of her as she wrote. A lesson plan of sorts for her healing classes in the clinic. A few words added here and there, adding a section to the next set of lessons she had planned. Amputation wasn’t something she normally would have added to General Healing and Triage, but after recent events, she deemed the knowledge useful.

The back corner was quiet. A corner of solitude, just the way she liked it. A welcomed change from the chaos that used to be her life for so many years. Her attention drifted away from the plan in front of her, mind not fully focused on the task at hand. As much as the silence was nice, there were times that the silence was almost too much. Being left alone with one's thoughts is not always a good thing.

At times she’d find herself back in there. Once again, trapped in obedience and guilt, as well as a need back then to prove she could be trusted, lest any other actions be taken as an act of betrayal. Betrayal resulted in death, and that was not an option. A promise made to her daughter that she would be the one to stay, one that would not leave. She did what she had to to keep herself alive, but even then, it almost didn’t seem like enough. Even as she tried her hardest to prove that she could be trusted, said life was often dangled in front of her daughter. 

Stuck in the same cycle without any end in sight. Until one day, she realized it wasn’t a way for her to live anymore. She had to get out. A slow sigh escaped her, a hand lifting to her face where it then ran down it. It felt like there was an invisible weight on her shoulders, but she tried to ignore it, now trying to pull herself out of her time in that place. It was a place and time better to be left in the past. Better left in the darkness and shadows where it belonged. A darkness she had been confined in for far too long. She’d fought so hard to get herself out, to be out of the cage she’d been locked in. Free to spread her wings and fly. 

 Just a look only showed a woman by herself, turquoise eyes on the parchment in front of her. Merely reading something. If they could see past the neutral façade, they’d see a woman who was struggling to keep her head above water and not to suffocate.

Art by Wlop

Discord: Zadie#4764

IGN: Itsmearcher
Skin name: Grace
Bid amount: 40

It took  a little time for the news of Lilith's passing to reach Leilani. When it did, the world just stopped. Her eyes widened, whatever had been in her hands slipped from them and met the ground. However long, she just stood there, blue gaze zoned out upon the ground. Finally, her lips parted, and she managed to get a word out, her voice beginning to crack.

"Lilith..."

A breath was sucked in, a hand clasping over Leilani's mouth. Her shoulders shook, the tears flowing down her cheeks. Sobs were choked back and muffled by her hand. There was barely a moment before she heard foot steps approaching. Likely Lyemar. But the voice she soon heard was not that of her husband.

"Haelun? What's wrong?"

Her eyes shot up, blue meeting amber. Leilani froze, only for a few seconds as it dawned on her.

I have to break it to her that Lilith is gone.

There was a concerned, yet confused, look on Rosalia's face as she looked at her mother.

"Haelun, what is it?"

Another shuddering breath escaped Leilani, her hand lifting to rub down her face, before she was able to work up the courage to speak.

"Rosa.."

A frown began to tug at Rosalia's lips, the concern on her face only grew.

"Haelun? Is Lyemar okay?"

Leilani gave a nod of her head, her hand dropping to hang at her side.

"Lyemar's okay, dear."

A sigh of relief escaped the younger 'ame, but the concern didn't fully fade from Rosalia's features.

"What is it then, Haelun?" 

The thought of it was enough to bring another fresh round of tears welling up in Leilani's eyes. Her hand soon lifted again to clasp with the other, her weight shifting a little from foot to foot. It was a struggle to try to get the words out. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but nothing came out.

"Haelun, what's going on?"

The frown on Rosalia's face only deepened, her mother's actions only prompting more concern from her.

"It's Lilith." 

Finally, Leilani was able to get something out. But any other words caught in her throat.

"Lilith? Is she okay?" 

Confusion twisted along Rosalia's face once more, head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

"Rosa, She's... She's gone." 

It took everything Leilani had to not buckle down and sob right there, though more tears did start to dribble down her cheeks. One hand pulled from the other to wipe at the corners of her eyes.

"What?"

One faint word, Rosalia's frame beginning to tremble, but it was slight for now. She'd heard wrong, right? Right...?

"She's gone."

It was quiet repeated confirmation from Leilani, who was still struggling to keep herself somewhat composed.

"No... No..."

Rosalia began to shake her head, her breathing picking up.

"Rosa..."

Leilani took in a deep breath, which was followed by a thick swallow. Her throat felt dry and heavy.

"She... She can't be gone! Sh.. She always comes back! No matter how long she's gone, she always comes back!"

Tears had began to freely flow down Rosalia's cheeks, rapid breaths and hiccups starting to wrack her body.

"Rosa, I... She..."

Leilani took steps forward so that she could lift her arms and wrap them around her daughter. Her own frame was shaking as she held her.

"She always comes back, Haelun..."

A broken and resigned whisper, and yet there was still a tiny bit of hope that clung to the words. Rosalia's face was buried in her mother's shoulder, sobs erupting from her.

"Not this time, Rosa."

Leilani whispered back to Rosalia, her cheek resting on the top of her head. Any attempt to hold herself back was stopped, and stream after stream of tears poured down her cheeks, dampening Rosalia's hair.

Eyes scanned the parchment in front of their face, reading over each word, green eyes soon pausing upon the signed names.  One in particular stuck out.

"Feels like just yesterday she was in my classroom." 

It was murmured, a fond tone to the words, thumb brushing along the edge of the parchment. 

"You've come so far. I'm proud of you."

The parchment was soon folded, tucked away in a dress pocket as the person turned to walk, green leaves just barely visible atop the woman's shoulders, having spread up her shoulder blades from her back.

"I have faith that you will do amazing, Medli."

Wow, this is so nice of you! 😄

Amazing. Love it, Mattio.

“So, the Clerics have been reunited.” Leilani murmured to herself, reading over the missive she’d just received. “Suppose there will be a trip to Aegrothond.” 

"I’d never met Xavis..." The words were murmured, a slight frown upon Amara's visage at the news. In her hands was a wooden item, the design beginning to take shape, though it wasn’t clear what it was going to be yet. "Where will the afterlife take him, I wonder?”

"So, Xavis has passed on." Estellise mused to herself, an open sketch pad upon her lap. She was silent for a moment, a quiet exhale escaping her. "I feel for all of his children and family. Loss... Loss isn’t an easy thing to deal with." 

MC Username: Criala

Character name: Neia Csarathaire and Zolitas

Discord name: Zadie#4764
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Mina or USD: Minas
Accessories: None!

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Skin – 

References of hair –

Any preferred pose – Neia leaning against Zol is good!
Any Details I need to know? – Neia has a red flame tattoo going up her right arm.
Expression – Smiles are good.
Cup Type: Tea cup.

Liquid: Yes.

Do you want anything on the mug: Yes, an open book please!
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Do you understand that I do this as a hobby and will do yours in order, by saying yes you agree to not rush me.  When I get to it, I get to it, okay? : Of course! ?

The Des’nox Matriarch was silent, taking in the sight of the familiar gates before the group.  The gates of Ker’nor. They hadn’t changed at all, almost as if they’d been frozen in time. It was a surreal feeling, standing before those gates once more. Over two hundred years had passed since they were last here.

Sapphire remained locked on the closed gates, until she felt a hand reach out to grab hers and give it a squeeze. A look to her left showed that Dak’ir had been the one to take her hand. Her fingers entwined with his, returning the squeeze. 

Even as the rest of the group conversed, mostly about how they would get inside, Lielle’s mind wandered. The memory of the first time she approached those gates, over two hundred and fifty years ago, came to mind. All because of a letter from her cousin.

She was pulled from her thoughts when her hand was let go, in favor of Dak’ir looking through his key ring, full of at least a hundred keys. It took him some time to sift through them all, but he eventually found the correct one. He really should color coordinate all of those. She told him to before. And with that, they were able to enter.

What greeted them was unexpected. Spider webs were all over, along the walls and across the ceiling of the cave. A frown tugged at her lips. This wasn’t the state they’d left their former home in. The deeper in they went, they found that the webbing was everywhere. Almost no place within had been spared. Even the temple, where the remnants from her and Dak'ir’s wedding remained, was covered in it.

They were all in agreement to clear out the taint that had overtaken their old home. It wasn’t just the webbing that now held the caves in its grasp. Cocoons also hung from the ceiling at various points in the caves, one of them being right outside of the temple. Despite them causing it to pop open and small spiders to rain down upon them, the arachnids were fended off. It was a tedious task, but a task that would be worth it.

In the end, it was their group that was victorious, though it was not without injury. Gusiam’s lung had been punctured, and Twilight ended up with cracked ribs. But the injuries would heal. There had been no loss of life that day. The start of an old beginning was now cleansed of taint.

Leilani Aureon would have taken the note to read it after Lyemar had set it aside. A quiet gasp would come from her, a hand lifting to press to her mouth. The High Princess would be in shock, what she'd just read taking several moments to process.

"I'm so sorry, Sister." 

It would be the only thing that came out, the words quiet. A glance would be sent to her husband, a slow and shaky sigh escaping from her. A silent prayer would soon follow for her seed sister.

Hands clasped together and eyes closed, the mali’fenn woman sat with her legs tucked beneath her. It would appear that she was in prayer, though no sounds came from her. She remained like this for several more moments, before her eyes opened. Her hands dropped, unclasping in the process.

Whatever answer she’d been looking for, it wasn’t obvious. Her gaze lowered to fall upon a spot on the floor. Silence filled the air, the sound of her breathing the only noise in the room. Now she was deep in thought.
 

When was the last time I actually felt free?

How long had it been? Years, at the very least. So long she’d been trapped by guilt. By a need to prove herself. To be trusted. All of which only weighed her down. She felt so heavy, carrying such a burden upon her shoulders. Too much. It was getting to be too much. Had been too much for a long time. But that need to prove herself, prove her loyalty… It kept her locked in a cage, confined by obedience.

I can’t live like this anymore.

No, this wasn’t her turning her back on anyone or anything. It was letting go. Something she had needed to do a long time ago. She just hadn’t wanted to. A tiny bit of hope. But that was no way to live.

Lockezi was right. He was making fun of me. But he was right.

Too long had she been like a bird in a cage, hoping to spread its wings. Now finally… Finally, she would fly.

Art by Wlop

Zadie#4764

Beneath the Gehenna Estate, in a room deep within the lowest levels of the underground, was a Mali’fenn woman. She was seated upon the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of the desk, upon the carpet. A mirror reflected her look of concentration, locks of her silvery white hair threatening to spill over her shoulders. Black snowflakes stuck out on her arms, going all the up from her wrists to the top of her shoulders.

In front of her was a sketchpad, strokes of charcoal being brought over the page. The outline of a swing was beginning to take shape. Once the swing was done, her hand slowed to a stop, blue gaze scanning the page. Charcoal stained her fingers, contrasting with her pale skin. 

She gave a nod of approval, reaching to grab a cloth to wipe her hands off with. The black was wiped away, smearing across the white cloth. She balled the cloth, dirtied side on the inside, and set it aside to wash later. Her focus fell upon the page once more, taking a moment to take in the details of it so far. Picking the sketch pad up, she closed it and set it upon her lap. Her fingertips brushed along the cover, before she set it on the ground beside her. A quiet sigh flowed out from her as she heaved herself up from her seated position. Her gaze caught sight of the mirror, lingering upon her reflection for a minute. Soon though, she tore her eyes away from it, her focus falling to the ground.

“I feel so lost sometimes.” 

The words were murmured, her mind beginning to stray. Arun’asna. The name had lingered in her mind since she’d first heard it from him. Ever since she’d come back to the Estate so many years ago, it’d stuck out to her more and more. Perhaps it could give her something. A purpose. Something to follow. Anything.

“Show me the way, Arun’asna.” 

Art of her by Wolf-fram

The only sound within the room had been the breathing of the Mali'fenn woman. Then the Exalted at entered the room, his voice reaching her ears. Her ear twitched a little, but his speaking didn't wake her. Though her sleep had been peaceful, the chaotic aura of the being began to take its toll on her. It caused her to stir, her brow furrowing, her body curling further into the blankets and pillow. After he left, and the aura had gone with him, her stirring ceased. She was left unaware of what had happened.

What’s your favorite number?

It took time for the news of Pelilasdir's death to reach Eraami. With putting together lessons plans for the students of the Healing Institute, Peliasdir being one of those students, she'd been busy. She had been wondering why Pelilasdir hadn't been present at the last couple she'd held, but she had just assumed there were other things he'd been busy with, and that he'd be able to attend future lessons. 

The news stopped the elfess in her tracks, her eyes widening. Not once had she thought that his death had been the reason for his absence.

"Oh, Pelilsadir..." It was whispered, her hand lifting to cover her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes, though they did not fall. "I hope you're at peace, Pelilasdir... It won't be the same with out you..."