- Messages
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- Character Biography
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Elinyra hummed a few stray bars of some half-remembered childhood lullaby as she set down a basket and sat staring into the dark waters of a still pond. It was a memory pool; one of several hidden away deep in the surreal forests of Tir Na Nog. Once her own memories had been locked away here by a malicious duanann, but no more. The only remembrance that rested in the bottom of the pool now was the collective memory of this blight-born land.
She knew now, of course, that this wasn't really the mythical land of the eternally young. But this place had been created at the behest of a powerful fae, and it retained that magical identity independent of its creator. To many, it was a cursed land: A sliver of Aerethil forged out of grief and rage. A place inhabited by the damned. But to her, it would always be Tir Na Nog. It would always be her home.
The season of the stag was over. It had been Vyr's thirst for destruction - including all he had created - that had led to his downfall. Elinyra had often wondered since then what happened to such beings when they died. Would this habitat he'd created eventually cease to exist? Would she and the other blight-altered people, part plant and part kith, simply die out?
An uncertain future lay ahead for all of them. Other afflicted druids and folk taken from various parts of the world had settled here after the blighting's end, like a leper colony that had no where else that would accept them. Now that they'd won their freedom from a tyrant, they were suffering a moral rift. Many felt it was the natural order that they should all die from their affliction, so that nature could set itself right again. Elinyra scoffed at the notion. She had been forced through madness and despair to look past some farcical idea of 'natural order'. The only truth was that of survival. Prosperity, for the lucky.
The basket sitting next to her stirred with a quiet coo. Elinyra lifted the blanket covering it and smiled at the tiny face blinking drowsily up at her. Her future. She wanted to believe the future for her people, if they could be called such. The babe was healthy, but there were signs that she had the same blight in her blood as her mother did. Small things like a dark green ring around her slate grey irises and black-edged fingernails. Elinyra had seen those who succumbed to the blight become no more than maddened monsters. Even without the duanann's corrupting influence, she feared the same would happen to Fielynn.
Some days that fear edged on desperation.
Elinyra gently ran her fingers over Fielynn's face and hummed again to soothe her. After Vyr's defeat her own powers of death and decay had begun to wane. Without it, she wondered how she could protect that future. She closely guarded the secret that, after all was said and done, she missed having that power.
Sedorohein
She knew now, of course, that this wasn't really the mythical land of the eternally young. But this place had been created at the behest of a powerful fae, and it retained that magical identity independent of its creator. To many, it was a cursed land: A sliver of Aerethil forged out of grief and rage. A place inhabited by the damned. But to her, it would always be Tir Na Nog. It would always be her home.
The season of the stag was over. It had been Vyr's thirst for destruction - including all he had created - that had led to his downfall. Elinyra had often wondered since then what happened to such beings when they died. Would this habitat he'd created eventually cease to exist? Would she and the other blight-altered people, part plant and part kith, simply die out?
An uncertain future lay ahead for all of them. Other afflicted druids and folk taken from various parts of the world had settled here after the blighting's end, like a leper colony that had no where else that would accept them. Now that they'd won their freedom from a tyrant, they were suffering a moral rift. Many felt it was the natural order that they should all die from their affliction, so that nature could set itself right again. Elinyra scoffed at the notion. She had been forced through madness and despair to look past some farcical idea of 'natural order'. The only truth was that of survival. Prosperity, for the lucky.
The basket sitting next to her stirred with a quiet coo. Elinyra lifted the blanket covering it and smiled at the tiny face blinking drowsily up at her. Her future. She wanted to believe the future for her people, if they could be called such. The babe was healthy, but there were signs that she had the same blight in her blood as her mother did. Small things like a dark green ring around her slate grey irises and black-edged fingernails. Elinyra had seen those who succumbed to the blight become no more than maddened monsters. Even without the duanann's corrupting influence, she feared the same would happen to Fielynn.
Some days that fear edged on desperation.
Elinyra gently ran her fingers over Fielynn's face and hummed again to soothe her. After Vyr's defeat her own powers of death and decay had begun to wane. Without it, she wondered how she could protect that future. She closely guarded the secret that, after all was said and done, she missed having that power.
Sedorohein
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