clonky

“I have done something I am not proud of.” Seraena only wished these words were the ones that came from her tongue, though all that was left was a measly apology. Albeit quiet and intimate, it did not surmount the feelings she held in her heart. The Sun eclipsed, a relapse in her judgment, with her Stars straying from the light she illuminated. Her ire cast a wave of fire that indulged the word to burn, and the Moon who stood by her side felt the effects along with her little Stars. Though, one of her Stars flew too close to the Sun, and like Icarus, lost His wings in the scorching heat. Instead of providing warmth, she clipped the wings of her Star, and let him fall from grace instead of uplifting his light. Too bright did Seraena’s love burn, and it scorched the relationship of her son, Galahad. Though, he too blew away the remaining petals of her forlorn flower, and so did the wind sweep away all the love, leaving only but a stem of what once was. All her life, it was as if she had to survive from the rain in the desert, hoping it would quench her thirst, but delusion was quite the motivator for Seraena. Even when she created such a fantasy, those whom she held dearest did not care to give her a sip from the chalice, but instead let her rot and wilt. Only her husband, Hurin, helped shift the tides of the sea, ascending as the Moon and controlling the waves. The last surge was the words of Galahad, which pushed her into the wind and let her float away from the empire she created in her mind. “Evil Incarnate.” It played over as if the leaves that wrestled with the wind murmured these words. Seraena did not know if this was truly what Galahad said, she could not tell if it was her mind playing tricks on her as it always does, or if the cards were played by her own son. Seraena only hoped that as The Sun, the light of her absence would illuminate enough for The Moon, as the flame that proudly burned now faltered to the near extinguish. The wind did not carry the flame, but instead carried the light to a sphere that was long forgotten, and irradiated into extinguished smoke. She left a simple note to her husband, in a place that only he shall find it, and it read as follows: “Dearest Hurin, I have gone back to where the wind has called me, and I have taken the sentence that has been wrought to me. I hope that your persistent love will guide my path, because I know well that you do not falter in the way the flame does. You are constant, my Moon, and hopefully your power over the tides brings me back home when I am ready. My love for you will always burn like a thousand suns, forgive me.” Seraena then signed her name at the end, and suddenly the rain that she so cherished as a forlorn flower now came from her eyes, as tears dropped upon the parchment in which she wrote. She did not dare write of Galahad and the words that scorned her, or Carys, who had forsaken her, or Rumil, whose heart was deep as the ocean. Regardless of all, she hoped that when she returned, so would her love for her little Stars – her children. Hopefully they too, would learn to love her.

IGN: clonky DISCORD: clonkie CATEGORY: MC Skin TITLE OF YOUR PIECE: Musgo (Moss in Spanish) https://www.planetminecraft.com/skin/musgo-6260773/ (PMC Link to the skin!)

High Princess Seraena watches from a crimson couch as the servants of the keep prepare the halls with flowers and other decoration hand-picked by Seraena herself. Another servant prepared a variety of silks and linens for her dressmaker as well.

A state, where peace wishes to reside. The Duchy of Adria may have appeared from the ashes, but has requested solemnly to its people for peace. The land is filled with turmoil, people taken from their homes yet still fighting for land and country. There is more to it than just land, but there are people, there are livelihoods, and there could be peace. Yet, this path is not one trekked, perhaps one unknown. TO HAENSE, I find your instruments of war interesting. What is it that you seek? Is it those people who are excommunicated? Is it glory in God’s name? Or is it total submission under a supposed unified state? I query you, as I find myself confused as to what peace you desire. It is surely not the one where the lives of the people are put before any other, for then we would have peace. It is not for God, because many seeking peace have already sought penance to be relinquished from their excommunication. My husband, an elf who was never before known to be Canonist, was deemed excommunicated. Hurin and I, Seraena, seek only the path and light of God, yet all I see with war is the opposite. Shadows cast over your judgment, and I only hope that penance is served for all those who sought destruction over peace. I hope that penance be handed to those who put land over people, and greed over God. Peace is within your hands - it was given to you, the promises of Midlanders willing to put down sword because we have lost so many. Our brethren look from the Seven Skies and yet, when they look down on our turmoiled and malevolent lands, they do not see the crown of peace that was offered to be accepted and sat upon the head. The crown has been given, the olive branch tossed, but it was not taken, and for what purpose? Allow me to wonder where peace might live. Peace is not subjecting innocent peoples to horrific tasks, or a life barely liveable. Peace is not relinquishing identity, and peace is certainly not war. So, it is evident to mine eye that peace is not with you. If you require peace, if you so request it, if you are so desperate and you preach and speak about peace as if it were your own son, then harbor it as such. If peace is the answer, then it is not peace that is with you. Do not opt to speak of peace in place of avarice, because God shall surely see through this lens. Let the innocents die, they say, as this is war. Let there be peace, they say, but this is still war.

FULL NAME: Seraena AGE: 100+ PRIOR EXPERIENCE: Many a time have I encountered such grandeur foe with desire to continue my training and knowledge. METHOD OF CONTACT: clonkie (discord) clonky (in game)

I highly recommend commissioning capace. dude literally has a ton of experience working for people in bedrock marketplace and doing a variety of stuff. keep up the good work buddy!

The eyes of the Princess of Malinor lit with the flame that burned before her. The Petran Church, a heap of scorched rubble and rafts that have burnt the very structure of the church. Her visage was simple - admiration. Seraena knew her husband to be a devout Canonist. Regardless of if she was an elf, or if he was an elf, there was one problem. God was not with any of us in war. Regardless of this fact, her heart pitied those humans who did not have the life that she had. She could live for centuries, while they lived for less than a century itself. The hostages under her care, a young coupling, were subject to the kindness that Seraena showed. Next time, though, God would not be with Seraena, nor guide her path toward the tolerance that held her heart so. After all, with the excommunication of Hurin, it seemed that elves and Canondom did not mix. She would not force the lily pad to sink beneath the water. Alas, the burning of the church was but a mere act of vengeance. There and then, a small simper arose on the horizon of her countenance, and shone like the dawn. Here was a new day, a temperate change to facilitate her new found freedom.

"I remember the day Hurin and I were married. . ." Seraena, the Princess of Malinor commented on her engagement to her now-husband. "Perhaps it is time we renew our vows. It started with a Canonist priest, and we shall continue to be wed under the eyes of God." She too, was a Canonist elf, as Hurin is himself. Though, she did find it quite funny to see his name in such a missive. Regardless of his status, she did not care much for Canondom as he did. It mattered not. @Milenkhov

Olive Victoire is highly impressed with the research and history that this article contains.

Here came the icy winds that whipped the inflamed tresses of Olive Victoire as her eyes flitted to view the wintery abyss. The young girl of High Peak, having hailed from Aaun now found herself in the Kingdom of Haense, feeling desolate and alone, and preferring to be mute rather than speak. She held her arms close to her, with the fur coursing her skin, yet her heart did not warm. Her body ached. Her arms could not bear the weight of sadness any further. Her legs couldn’t carry her to a path of victorious elation. Her eyes - who chose not to see the beauty of the world - were now fogged by tears. There was not a moment that passed, a snowflake that fell, where Olive did not think of Gawyn. There was not a night spent without a weeping child, longing for the parental affection that Gawyn had provided. By blood, she was not a Tiber. By name, she was not a Tiber, but to Gawyn, she was just as much his and he was hers. Olive Victoire. The namesake of ‘Victoire’ rang in her ears. She believed she did injustice to her name. In no way was she victorious. Victory would mean to her that life was fruitful, that it was fair. Victory was not the stools she used to clamber up the Hand of Horen to save her aunt, Adela of High Peak. Victory was not her safe venture to Haense. Victory did not save Ser Gawyn, and Olive felt a disgrace. "Life is unfair, Olive. You have simply been unlucky.” Gawyn’s voice still echoed in her mind. Though, she did not forget his song of words. "But you, you will be safe elsewhere.” Perhaps life had been unkind to the girl, but if unkindness meant that Ser Gawyn had cared for Olive as his own blood - his own kin - then life had been fruitful and giving. Life had been granted to Olive, even if it was at the fate of another’s. Life was easily taken as it was given, but Olive was forever indebted to her one true family - Ser Gawyn Tiber. "I won't forget you, Gawyn. Guide my hand to sword, and guide my mind to victory. I will miss you as the sun misses the moon." Hands then stretched to the sky as the sun appeared from the dimmed clouds, shining down on Olive from above. The warmth of a true father could never be forgotten by one who has felt it.

Olive Victoire of High Peak found herself dithering, her mind a swirl of what transpired. Perhaps she was frightened for her life, for she would soon be found to be the culprit of the stools. But, she didn't quite feel a discernable way, all she knew is there was no regret to be had. Kin is kin, blood is blood, and she would sacrifice her life for whom she considered family.

giving me a 79.9% grade in this class is really cruel. round it up or else

"I was invited?" Queried the Rosius girl to her father, her eyes sparkling as she saw her name glimmer on the parchment. Olive Victoire began her preparations to play with Darius and Cecily and maybe even have a slumber party!

Sister Gisele hummed to herself after reading the missive, her mind fluttering with what occurred that day. She did not forget that her prayers sentenced the rain to stop in an instant, making way for a clear blue sky after the request was sent to God. She smiled, and continued to hang linens to dry out over the Aaunic Sea.