Private Tales Those That Carry On

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Ereven Theruvanen

Elven Blademaster
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In the heart of the Falwood, trees towered higher than some of the tallest buildings you might find in other realms. The thick canopy allowed only so much sunlight to the forest floor below, and such a forest held many dark and terrible secrets. It also held life: here you would find the home of the Elves, and many Fae, many of whom were likely behind such rumors, and legends...

One such elf made his way down a faded path in the wood, his spotted white horse walking with a slow, even gait, crunching fallen leaves and brush on the path below with each step. Its rider was clad in a disguised mithril plate, and bore a large falchion in a scabbard on his back. His long hair was tied into three large braids, which reached about halfway down his back. Like most elves, he had a fair complexion and you couldn't tell he was 600 years old. Unlike most elves, he was heading towards a hallowed area: a life crystal the size of a giant. The increasingly dense brush on the path indicated that he was close to reaching his intended destination, and in a few moments, he would arrive in a large clearing where the massive green crystal hovered above the ground, emanating a soft glow from its shimmering center and producing a nearly imperceptible hum that only an elf might notice. At this point, the elf dismounted, approaching the crystal.

Ereven didn't know what he was expecting as he stood before the crystal. He and his brother had once slain a group of satyrs that had corrupted it with dark magic, and in return, had received several of its shards, which possessed minor healing qualities. He was visiting it in remembrance of the 100th year anniversary of his brother Taluei's death, and Ereven had visited many such sites on the way back to Fal'addas, their original home that they would only revisit once every few decades when he was alive. They were protectors of the weak, defenders of the mortal races, and such a life had led to Taluei's death, having caught an arrow through the eye slit of his helm from a mere bandit. Yet even as Ereven visited this ground, much like most of his life, he felt very little except pangs of anguish that weren't enough to even crease his brow, or well a single tear.

Even now, on such a grim anniversary, he was still just going through the motions, and doing what he was supposed to do. But what else was there for him to do, except that?

He shook his head, simply examining the prisms and refractions in the crystal, seeing his own distorted image in its emerald glow. What, indeed?

Anie Taralom
 
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The trees here were welcoming, and in the midst of them she felt a very present comfort. These lands were prosperous, and the beauty of the flora about her whispered of this lingering, nurturing warmth. The fauna too sang of it, high above in the depths of the canopy and below, between the roots. She breathed a contented sigh and gave a few affectionate pats against the neck of the lovely, white mare she sat atop. Ánië, too, was robed in an all white cloak with a hood placed gently atop her head, which eyes of sapphire peered out from beneath.

She knew by the surround that she was drawing close to what she sought: A Life Crystal.

Though she would admit that - likely due to her severe amnesia - she did not truly know what one was, or really what to expect, but she was hopeful. She'd been told the crystals can have healing effects, and if her memory loss could be simply healed, it was worth a try. So now she traveled, and as her thoughts wandered through uncertainty and doubt, striving for hope, a sound reached her ear. With acuity of hearing being a typical attribute of her people, the persistent hum of the crystal found her sooner than likely most. She paused, bringing her mare to a halt, and looked ahead.

A strange nervousness crept over her, and after drawing in a shaky breath she softly urged her steed forward and moved through the thick into a clearing where she beheld the floating crystal, and the soft light is shone. She stopped there, and gazed at it with wonder for a time until her eyes fell upon the sight of another standing much closer to the stone, seemingly examining it. He was an elf and so she felt no immediate threat, but she was also wary. This was not Fal'Addas, and she was alone. She would keep her distance for now, and keep her hand rested upon the hilt of her sword, hidden beneath her cloak.


 
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Ereven's reflection in the life crystal shifted and distorted before his eyes, even as he tried to maintain his contact on it. He saw his own face in pieces, fading in and out of existence in the vibrating prisms of the crystal. His eyes widened as that broken visage changed, and he saw instead the face of his brother, Taluei. Nervous, his mouth slightly agape, he reached his hand forward, placing his palm flush with the edge of the crystal, its vibrations coursing through his body now as gentle as the hum it was producing. An affirming energy coursed through his veins, invigorating yet comforting--the very essence of life itself.

He looked deeper into the crystal. He started to see not only his brother, but an unwelcome sight as well. Faces of satyrs flashed before his eyes. Though it was over one hundred years ago, the sounds and sensations of the battle for this crystal flitted through his consciousness like arrows. He saw Taluei cry out and bring down Satyrs with each of his two swords. Taluei's face filled his vision, not of his smiling brother but that of the vengeful warrior.The protector. Ereven stood motionless as he witnessed the terror of a single satyr, weakly holding a knife as Ereven saw himself charging towards him, crying out. He was transfixed on that utter horror for many moments, as if time itself stood still and all that remained was the creature. The illusion only broke when Ereven saw his own blade reach the satyr, sending him back to his own senses as the blade hit, causing him to stumble backwards from the crystal as if he'd been punched in the gut.

In a moment, he looked up at the crystal again. He saw only his own reflection again, as distorted and fragmented as before. He grit his teeth. He fell to his knees. His hands curled into fists.

"Brother..." he said aloud. Ereven hung his head. He hadn't noticed the stranger that had approached while he saw such visions. He then looked back up again at the crystal.

"How many... how many have I killed in your name? In the name of justice? Of protecting the innocent? And if we were right, then why... why did you... and how it happened..."

He was losing himself in a way he hadn't in a long time. Not since Taluei's death.

I am a warrior, he thought, at odds with the words that were leaving his own mouth. I am a protector. Thousands died so that many more thousands might live.

"My blade is the shield that will keep the mortal races safe," he continued aloud. "My will is the only thing that stands between the innocent, and destruction. I would spill any amount of blood if it would safeguard the weak."

Yet there was a hollowness to the words. He'd repeated them many thousands of times, for they were not his own, they were Taluei's. It was an endless loop of reliving these memories and consoling himself with the thoughts and words of his brother. In the end, that made this event just like any other time he'd had such flashbacks. But this time a deep, unsettling feeling sunk into his stomach. Before he could contemplate why, he turned around and saw a horse in the path. Perhaps, he thought, that was why.

"Who walks the crystal path?" he said. The horse was saddled--its rider had to be close by... Normally he'd reach for his sword, but he felt any will to fight sapped from him at this moment. Maybe this would be how he died--an assassin sent to kill him after centuries of bloodshed...



Ánië Táralóm
 
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Ánië watched the stranger by the stone curiously for a time. Though she was certain he was doing something with the stone, whatever he engaged in was beyond her perception. She saw only his reactions to whatever it was taking place, beyond that she may have seen some localized flickering of light just there before him within the crystal. She heard him begin to speak, with great clarity. Every word he spoke came to her with ease, and the more he unwittingly revealed of himself, the more questions about him she came too.

Hearing his pledges, she decided it safe to draw near.

But then as she came closer, he became alerted to her presence and startlingly so. He was taken aback by her, and seemed to be even confused as to her whereabouts. He acknowledged her steed, but when his eyes searched upward for her it was clear he found nothing. It was curious that she appeared invisible to him, but perhaps that was an effect of his interaction with the crystal, and it was a temporary impediment.

She remained still as not to alarm him further, and replied, "I am Ánië, I have come from Fal'Addas in search of this stone. I bring with me no ill intent, and seek only to uncover if this great stone can help me."


 
Ereven blinked a few times as he heard the voice of a nearby entity; in moments his vision cleared and he saw the other elf who had joined him in the life crystal's presence. He was surprised, to say the least, to see that she had gotten so close to him without his notice, but there were any number of reasons that could have been the case.

"Forgive me fair Ánië, for in my hysteria I did not see you. Or perhaps it was the crystal's influence that blinded me to your presence. I am Ereven Theruvanen, a warrior hailing from Fal'Addas, though you wouldn't think so from all the time I spend in the Allirian Reach." He paused, giving a reluctant bow, though such formalities were trivial, in his mind. "Not many know of where the life crystals are, even among our kind. If I might ask, what brings you here to this one, alone?"

It occurred to him that it might seem hypocritical if he didn't reveal his own intentions.

"I myself am here to honor my late brother--we once liberated this shrine from the dark magic of some satyrs, who sought to corrupt it... who knows what might have happened had we not intervened."

It was a solemn and foreboding statement, to be sure, yet Ereven spoke it with a calmness in his voice that belied the real peril of such a concept. The crystals were known for their life-giving properties, and it was a truly daunting prospect to consider what the opposite of such an effect would be. Ereven steeled himself in case this Ánië turned out to be hostile or otherwise had intent, but for now he was at ease, perhaps because the crystal had dulled his senses and had him feeling strangely calm...

Ánië Táralóm
 
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Ánië brought a hand up to her chest, inclining her head some, replying, "well met, Ereven."

Though he frequented the Allir Reach, which if she recalled from the maps in the elven city, was quite a bit east of here. But he hailed from Fal'Addas, where she'd just been. She was confident that he was trustworthy, and his words strengthened this belief.

She offered a solemn bow of her head at the mention of his late brother, and then lifted her head to respond saying, "well then I am thankful that you and your kin brought an end to the satyr's evil. I have come to this crystal..." he words fell away as she lifted her hood, allowing hair as white as snow to fall free, and she looked up and admired the stone, "...to help me remember. You see... I can barely recall who I am."


 
Upon Ánië's revelation of her purpose for seeking the life crystal, Ereven raised a single eyebrow. He'd seen such things before, of course: usually a result of battle, and hits to the head. The irony of the situation almost crept into his face, a small twitch in his fingers as he pondered how he himself would look, or act, were he not burdened with memory. Deep down he knew such an experience must be dreadfully inconvenient to her, but he nonetheless felt a pang of envy in his heart for what he perceived to be amnesty from several lifetimes of bloodshed and loss.

Yet, he retained his calm demeanor as he spoke again.

"Living a life without a past must be strange, indeed," he said. "It was clever of you to seek out the crystal. Even our elders, and the Fae do not understand their greater workings. Perhaps if you were to commune with it, you might find that which you seek."

He turned his gaze back to the crystal. He felt again its oppressive presence, in no small part thanks to its massive size.

"I will make sure nothing harms you while you do so. Go, seek the crystal's guidance."

He didn't know how the crystal actually worked, of course. No one did. It was the subject of much mysticism among the other woodland races, and for good reason. There was, of course, the more worrying thought that perhaps the crystal did nothing to Ereven that his own mind hadn't done to itself...



Ánië Táralóm
 
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"Living a life without a past must be strange, indeed,"
"Yes," she replied, her eyes drifted down from the crystal's pinnacle, down to its hovering base, then to him, "it has been difficult. And yes, even those who directed me here were uncertain, and warned it may not be what I hope..."

"I will make sure nothing harms you while you do so. Go, seek the crystal's guidance."
"You are most kind, I don't know if I could ever repay such generosity, but if ever I can..."

She dismounted her horse, and ran her fingers through her mane before stepping closer now to the imposing crystal. Its greenish tinge cast a radiance round about it, and it caused a twinkling in many of the threads in her cloth. Her eyes, too, seemed to sparkle in its immediate closeness. She looked into the crystal, and saw only her own reflection staring back. She realized then how solemn the features on her face appeared, hidden beneath her false smile.

She reached out then, and touched the great stone.

And her perception blinked away from the here and now. While in the physical, her body stood rather still with her hand pressed against the crystal, and she gave no indication of anything taking place, but within, a great multitude of things transpired.

She found herself in the midst of a great light, and nothing but brightness was around her. People, places, and things began to take shape in the distance, slowly encroaching nearer. Soon then, a great city took shape, and a familiarity was felt in her. Great streets of stone, and a towering temple looming high overhead. Within were great figures, gods and goddesses of old, and deeper in, another crystal, growing up through the ground. She saw light and magic, and faces she knew were friends, but could name them not.

And then she saw fire, and blackness, and the form of a great evil that reached out to grasp her.

And it did.

And it was then that a great spark of light formed between Ánië's palm and the great life crystal, and with a shrill yelp she was projected some meters away with a flash and a tremendous propelling force. She slid against the ground and then started into a roll before she came to a harsh halt nearly halfway across the clearing. She gasped for her breath as she brought herself to her hands and knees, and sweat dripped from her brow.

But she remembered... not everything... but she remembered something terrifying.


 
Ereven responded to her gratitude with a simple, understanding nod, knowing Ánië's thoughts were likely fixated on the life crystal, as well as her own plight. He watched as she approached it with the same trepidation he'd had, and a similar hesitation at the sight of her own reflection. Then, when she reached out and actually touched the thing, he noticed the crystal almost seem to flare up, almost as if it were excited by the elven woman's touch. He wondered now if the same thing had happened when he touched it, as his own consciousness eluded him during that experience.

For several quiet moments he watched her commune with the crystal, watching her refracted reflection in the crystal's prisms. Then, there was a violent flash, blinding Ereven temporarily; when he regained his vision, he saw Ánië on the ground, having been launched halfway across the clearing from the backlash. He rushed to her side, kneeling next to her with concern in his face.

"Ánië, are you alright? What happened?"

Something about the sight of an injured elf caused him to break out of his normal stoicism. Perhaps it was the memory of his brother. Funny things, memories...

Ánië Táralóm
 
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"Yes," she replied, her voice shaky and weak at first, "yes I am alright."

After a few moments of collecting herself, with Ereven's aid she once again made it to her feet. She gazed upon the stone, wary to approach it once more. But, she somehow knew, it was not the stone that had reacted.

It had been her.

"I... am not entirely sure, but..." …I remember...

And it was in this moment that the voices began. At first she merely reached to her temple, giving it a gentle rub and thought the whispers to be naught but her still rattled head playing tricks. But after a time, as the whispers grew in number, she began to grow anxious. Her eyes darted one way, and then they darted another, and with a clear discomfort plain in her gaze she looked to Ereven and asked, "can you hear that?"

She looked to the crystal, and then she looked into the sky. It was then, to her eyes only, the sky grew dark with clouds threatening a great storm. Winds kicked up, abrupt and powerful, and thunder shook the very ground beneath her feet. And then a a wretchedly horrid sound cut through the noise of the whirlwind around her and shook the very foundations of her spirit: a voice, followed by what could only be thousands of others in chorus, saying,


I̵̢̼̬̲̻͖̺̰̥̳͕̖̤̍̒̽͌̂̽̓̈̎̔͑̈́̐̕ ̴̛̖̩̲͈̰̭̰͍̝͇̮͖̐̂̈́̿͝f̸̢͚͓̥͚̮̗̱̻̟̝̼̥̓̑͐͂̓̿̾̇͋͘ę̵̨̧̨͚̲̙͎̖͕̣͎͓̽̊͜͜ẻ̸̡͙̝̮̋̈́̃̅͠͠͠l̶̨̻͖̔̊̂̏̏̈ ̴̨͖̳͈͕͖̩͙̮̹̥͓̱̓̃̀̅̀͘ͅy̴͚̯̜̆̋ŏ̶̝̣̼̌͝u̵̧̙̤͚͓̥̩͙̬̫̥͚͕̽̏̆̿̇͌̉̀̉̑̐̍͜͝

Her eyes snapped shut, hard, and she brought her hands over her ears. It was only after a few more moments of horror, and likely growing confusion in her newest acquaintance, it ended. The whispers disappeared, the darkness faded, and any evidence of the storm and vanished.

Slowly her hands fell back to her sides and she drew in a deep breath, saying through a half sheepish smile, "I believe you were right, when you said the crystal's influence must have blinded you."


 
Even as Ánië was saying that she was alright, Ereven got the feeling of some deep wrongness that he couldn't express, just as it seemed Ánië was having another episode of some kind. The low hum of the life crystal was punctuated by her heavy breaths, as if she were having some great and terrible vision that Ereven was not privy to. In a few moments, it seemed she had regained herself, however, although Ereven was concerned that he might have to defend himself from her soon. After all, anyone other than himself visiting this crystal was immediately suspect, although she had seemed to be decent enough in their short conversation thus far.

He let her words hang on the air before responding. "Yes, I think it was the crystal which clouded my vision. Such magic works in strange ways... you can see it in the trees, and the vines, and the bushes that grow around here... they are larger than normal, and yet more aggressive, almost as if they're too alive, about to burst with a sort of energy."

He stood up, offering Ánië a hand.

"It would perhaps be in both our interests to leave here. I at least do not wish to tarry and see what other visions the crystal has for us." He paused again, something clicking in his mind. "And, Ánië... what did you see just now?"

He almost didn't want to hear the answer, based on how her body had reacted.

Ánië Táralóm
 
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"Thank you," she said for his aid, and nodded in agreement to what he said about the stone, taking in the surround. She had noticed how lush it had become in its presence, but she never imagined it would invoke such... terror, it her. But, she mused, perhaps it was not the stones fault at all for what she'd seen - that was simply what there was to remember. And that thought nearly made her shudder, and she began to rethink whether or not she truly wanted to remember what lay behind the veil of her forgetfulness. The images she'd been reminded of just now seemed to be more than enough to frighten her to her very core.

"And, Ánië... what did you see just now?"
She remained silent for a moment, her eyes cast mournfully upon the stone.

"Darkness," she replied solemnly, "chasing after me."

Beyond that, she could not bear to make any description. Instead, she took in a breath, smiled to her new companion, and moved to collect her horse, who'd been startled in the confusion and was lingering near the clearing's edge.

"I think you are right and we should leave here, for now..."

But there was something in her that urged, she must return.


 
It was impossible to tell exactly what had transpired with Ánië's vision, but one thing was certain: something had happened during her communion with the crystal, something that was enough to quiet her and speak with a stillness reminiscent of a child or a frightened rabbit. Perhaps Ánië was just like that naturally; such timidness was not uncommon among elves, but Ereven nevertheless sensed that there was more going on beneath the surface of their exchange.

"Darkness?" he asked. "I think most who look into their deepest memories may see such darkness. That is, at least, if it is their own darkness. If there is something else which pursues you... as I suspect is the case... Then that is something else entirely. A life crystal is a powerful object, a remnant of times past beyond our own understanding. Whatever you saw very well could be this crystal. Or, the crystal may have invoked something in you that was previously dead-- and such things may not have needed to be given life again. I do not know much of such things; I am a warrior, and I know little of the workings of magic and otherwise."

Ereven looked to his horse. Now that Ánië was standing again, he made his way back to him.

"You should ride with me to Fal'Addas. There we might find answers about your darkness. Or, at the very least, shelter from it. Once I attend to my business there, perhaps I might accompany you more to find answers to that which lurks beyond what our eyes can see."

It was a fair enough offer. He was still helping someone for no gain of his own, but at least there seemed to be more beneath the surface than simple bandits or orcs or whatever else ails all the little villages of the world. He maybe even felt excited, just a little spark of it, for the first time in so long that he doubted he felt it at all.

Ánië Táralóm
 
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After both of them had retrieved their horses and she had given thought to his offer, they reconvened and she said, "yes, I would return with you to Fal'Addas... I am thankful for your company."

She cast the Life Crystal one last look, studying it for a final moment before turning to Ereven, saying, "and yes, if you are not obligated elsewhere, I would certainly be greatful to have a travel companion. These roads can be perilous it seems..."

It wasn't that she had encountered anything on her way here from the city. It was simply that now she could remember that these woods were not all as pleasant as they appeared.


 
Ereven's thoughts turned to many such 'dangers' of the Falwood. His blade hand twitched reflexively as images of monsters and other unsavory things flashed through his mind.

"Quite perilous indeed," he said. "Follow me; I shall see to it that you arrive safely in Fal'Addas..."

With that, he clicked his tongue and urged his elven steed onward.



They were blessedly already fairly close to the city. They would arrive at dusk, the sun forlornly peeking through whichever trees it could pierce its light through. Magical lights with a bluish glow accentuated the dim sunlight's oranges, creating quite a spectacle of the Elven city as the two travelers made their way through the front gate, greeted by elven guards and in Ereven's case remembered as one of Fal'Addas' own. He was happy to explain Ánië's situation, allowing them to pass through uneventfully and into the city proper. As they reached the first major intersection in the streets, Ereven turned to her.

"I go to honor my brother's memory. This is the last stop in my journey. You are welcome to attend; he would be honored that one under my protection were to visit his final resting place. Yet if you require rest, I understand and will meet with you again later. What say you?"
 
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The city, as ever, was wonderous to admire, and upon returning to Fal'Addas she was reminded of the comfort the ancestral city offered. There was something within her that even though she knew this was not her home, in a far deeper way it was. And so, while there she was intent on observing and learning - or remembering rather - everything she could.

While they made there way, she smiled and nodded to those who regarded her, but her thoughts remained upon the things that had occurred by the Life Crystal. That was, until they'd come to a crossroads and Ereven spoke of his intent.

"I go to honor my brother's memory..."
She smiled, saying, "then I too would be honoured if I could join you."

She was a little spent from her experience, but she felt no inclination for any rest. Their leisurely journey had been relaxing enough.


 
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"Then we go," he said.

They made their way through the elven streets towards the burial grounds. Around him, the elven architecture felt strangely unfamiliar, as he had been away so long from Fal'Addas that his memory of the city was failing him. The road that winded through the city resembled a giant serpent with its many twists and turns, as it went over small rises in the ground and wormed around large trees. The city could have swallowed up perhaps a hundred of the little villages he'd spent so much time protecting with his brother.

It was upon that memory that they finally arrived before a large shrine: a massive tree, surrounded by a small carved stone wall, and a small paved path leading to the base of the tree. Unlike human cemeteries, there were no headstones or altars here--those that were interred were offered to the ground itself to become a part of the great tree itself, and return to the earth from whence they came. All was still around the tree, as if it were frozen in time. Noting Ánië behind him, he approached the great tree, dismounting his horse as he walked the final steps.

Not waiting for her to join him, he called to her instead: "Come, and with me beseech the spirits."

He turned then, standing at the base of the gargantuan arboreal presence before them. He was silent for many moments, closing his eyes as thoughts and memories of his brother rushed over him. Then, he spoke.

"I have seen many human funerals in my time traveling, and being their protector. They weep openly and often for many days after their friends, family, lovers have perished. Yet, in time, their hearts heal. They feel again. They love again. Parents have children again. They re-sow their fields and rebuild their homes. Their spirit is indefatigable."

"It has been 100 years since my brother died. And yet, I have changed so very little since that day. I wept not for his passing, telling myself he died doing the right thing, in the service of others. But more and more every day, I grow weary of being the protector to humans who cannot fill the hole in me left by Taluei's death. My family has grown thin indeed--neither of my parents saw his passing, having died of old age already, and only a sister remains to me, although I know not where she resides now. There are none who succeed me, for in my travels I never met one I could call my mate, so focused were we on the protection of the innocent..."


He looked up at the tree, higher and higher, even to its boughs. He closed his eyes, breathing jaggedly.

"...Yet I am no human. I will not move past my brother's death. I will carry that weight until it crushes me and I wither away into nothing, my family and legacy wither to nothing: the very portrait of an elven hero." He grit his teeth at this, fighting back tears. "Would that my life were anything more than a perpetual cycle of killing in the name of peace and fighting with a blade that has since grown hollow and rusted. Yes, in time I shall wither. But first I will go on this quest of yours. Let me honor my brother's death with one more life I have protected! Now let us go, and speak no more of it."

He turned and left the tree. In time, they would wind through the streets again before arriving at a small tavern, where a warm fire and fresh spirits awaited them.
 
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The city was as wonderous in the evening as it was in the day, perhaps even more so. That magic of her lights floated listlessly through the air, riding gentle drafts to and fro, and lingering here and there. But all while they traveled the sinuous street, her eyes were upon Ereven. He was awash with emotion. Though he hid it well, those unknown senses of hers could detect, and though she herself did not fully understand why she could sense his turmoil, she could not help her empathy. And so solemnly in quiet did she follow, careful to allow him the peace to feel what it was that ebbed at his heart.

When they reached the tree, she wordlessly followed him, likewise leaving her mount behind. Her eyes turned up to examine the tree, and as he spoke the prayer of his lament, her eyes closed and she listened in reverence.


He closed his eyes, breathing jaggedly.

She looked to him with a compassionate sorrow, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.


"...Now let us go, and speak no more of it."


She replied with only a quiet hum, and turned to follow him away. Gathering up their horses they left from that place and found themselves within the comforts of an elven inn. Like most of the structures in Fal'Addas, it had been sung and woven by the magics of old into a cozy and captivating retreat. Many rooms reached up through the trees great trunk, with stairs that wound peacefully up through its breadth. Even the furniture seemed to have been woven from the very essence of the tree itself - every portion still vibrant with life rather than felled and milled into cold, dead pieces. Such was the old elven way.

Sitting now, she sipped from her drink quite gingerly saying, "how long has it been since you've been home?"


 
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Ereven followed the path back to an inn by Ánië's side--or perhaps she was by his. It didn't matter, really, as he was regardless thankful for the company as he embarked on this mission of remembrance. There was a specific comfort in having an elven companion again, as there were many realities of an elf's existence that could only be understood by one, at least in his mind. Their long-suffering in particular was something that wasn't understood by the more short lived races, and wasn't something they often had in common with the longer-lived Fae. No, elven mourning was unique to the elves.

The tavern provided another comfort of sorts, too, as they both sat at a table, nursing a drink of some description. He drank, but never to be drunk; he'd tried it once but found it only made the loss of his brother worse, somehow. The natural designs of the elven architecture were familiar and welcoming, and he began to wonder if he'd spent far too long away from his original home.

"It must be a century, or close to it," he responded. "Not since Taluei was buried have I walked these streets and seen these sights. I fear it has taken more of a toll on me than I admit. The bed of an elven inn will be a welcome comfort after these many years of sleeping in a bedroll or some sleazy human inn's bedding. The life of a wandering swordsman is not one of such comforts, much to my regret."

He took a sip of his own drink now.

"Now let me ask a question in kind: What do you remember? How... I mean, do you know how much you've really forgotten? Anything at all you can remember might help..."
 
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What do you remember?


She offered first only a quiet, curious hum, slowly setting her drink back down. Her eyes closed in recollection, and she thought of everything that had happened since the awoke, alone and afraid in those woods. She remembered those who found her, offered her aid and shelter for a time before her coming here in search of answers. She wondered how Raphael was now, and hoped all was well. Then she thought more carefully, remembering faces with no names, and places that had changed.

She saw a once shining and vibrant city, set against a mountain before a lush and beautiful valley. And in a blink she saw it turned to ash and decay, covered in darkness.

"I remember..." she started quietly, "a city, and a great people. My people. Proud and just..." her eyes slowly opened, "I remember... something happening. Something terrible, and I... I should have stopped it, but I could not..." her eyes rose to meet his, and though she shed no tear there was a mourning quite clearly within, "and, I'm not sure how... or why, but... I think it's looking for me, whatever it is and, I know not what I should do..."

A sharp breath.

"But here in this place I feel safe. My distant kin have shown me no ill, and have been nothing less than kind."


 
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He watched Ánië's face with interest, his brows narrowing as she spoke of a harrowing tale and some distant past--at least to her memory--and a faraway land from whence she came. It seemed such memories were distressing as her face contorted in familiar expressions of sadness and suffering, which Ereven had seen far too many times in his own life. Most pressingly, it seemed her past was not just a past, but rather, something which skulked and stalked her. He wondered how soon the hunter would be upon its prey.

"Your troubles will have grown deep indeed if what you speak of could find you in Fal'Addas. Yet I find your tale distressing; you speak of an entire city, and some great and terrible happening, yet you cannot remember it. Such a situation would consume my waking thoughts. They do now, and I am not the one who cannot remember," he said, offering a sympathetic smile.

"There are many seers in Fal'Addas, who may know of that which you speak. Something befalling an entire city could not have escaped the eyes and ears of the wisest of us. In the morning, we should seek such a seer. If memory serves, Taluei and I once received guidance from an older seer known as Tanendir. I know not if he still lives, but he resided with other seers on a small terrace with a druidic circle. If they do not know, then surely they can guide you."

He was focused more on her quest now than his own painful memories, and it was helping. He reached for Ánië's hand, grasping it in his own and pulling it halfway between both of them, as a comforting gesture.

"Do not fear. We will seek out this evil, and I will pull it up by the root. I promise you this."

In time, their food would arrive, and for Ereven, spirits and sustenance seemed to do wonders against the impending gloom.
 
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"I must confess.. since seeing those images they have not left my thoughts..."

And truly, the memories that had bombarded her mind the midst of the Life Crystal had seemed to scar her for the time being, continually returning to remind her of the horrors she did not rightly recall. Everything was still broken and incomplete, and she had no idea why she experienced such terrors.

"But yes, I had dwelt here in the city for several days before leaving for the crystal, but no one had made mention of this Tanendir - until now.

Perhaps he will know more," she said as he eyes fell upon the food that was delivered. And meekly she began to eat, taking small bites at a time as if shy to eat more indulgently. But in fact, it was simply the way of her people - a fact which she did no know - that they typically ate very little, very seldom, and relatively slowly. Only so often did they have what others might consider a feast.

But still, even her spirits seemed to improve, even if only some.

She looked up from her food at him, and smiled, "tell me of some of your adventures? I would share some of mine, but..." she said, her voice trailing off through an almost nervous little laugh.


 
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Ereven's plate arrived not too long after Ánië's, with some fresh venison and a variety of different roasted vegetables to eat. He didn't much care for fine cuisine, even though dinners like these were the majority of what he'd eaten for most of the time he'd been alive. Being in a large city made him uneasy as well, even if it was Fal'Addas, as the sheer number of people around disoriented him thanks to his keen senses and his heightened awareness after centuries of fighting.

He was hopeful for Ánië. He had no reason to suspect this wouldn't be like any of the other 'great' evils he and his brother had slain in the past. After all, Ereven owed his personal stash of wealth and magical artifacts and relics to the various beasts and fiends he had felled.

"If you wish for a story, I can regale you," he responded, after taking a bite of his meal. "There are many things which plague the little places of the world. Taluei and I once visited a small village beside a large river. The townsfolk told us that people had been missing when they would go up the river to see the waterfall. So far, there had been no one to return and speak of such a thing. So, we made haste for the waterfall. Yet, we found nothing, at least not immediately. When we finally let our guards down and tested the water's edge, a great and terrible beast emerged: a nine-headed hydra, which lunged at us. Taluei was grappled by the beast, being picked at by various heads while the others kept me at bay. I started slicing and hacking away, even as the heads grew back, two for every one we removed."

He stopped, sipping his drink.

"As it happens, though, there is a limit to how many heads will come back when you start hacking. We counted 42, when the day was over."

Yet even as he said it, there was a certain disinterest in the story itself. It was like so many others he'd had, and he wondered: was this really what Ánië wanted to hear? Would it help? He felt strangely out of his element: a problem with no ready answers, and nothing his sword could solve...
 
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And regale her he did. Her mind had wanted so desperately to fling itself in the dark recesses of those horrid memories, to unfurl them right there as they sat together. But she refused, and his willingness to share stories of himself was not gone without appreciation. And even though his interest in the story waned as he told it, she was still taken in to the memory of it, quite vividly. Imagining forty-two seething heads snapping at her was certainly a harrowing thought, but his presence here now was a testament to his and his brother's abilities.

But though his story served to ease her mind of her woes, she felt as though his had only become exasperated. She felt a twinge of guilt in her, feeling a bit selfish.

"You... must really miss your brother. I can tell he meant much to you by how you speak of him..."


 
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Ereven simply nodded at her assertion about Taluei. "It is as if my own soul were cleaved in twain," he said. "Yet I must not dwell on it. For now, I have purpose, and that purpose lies with you. We should finish here, and then seek out Tanendir."

He would quietly finish his meal after that, his mind locked in contemplation of remembrance for the tale he had just relayed. He hoped Ánië didn't think him rude, of course, but Ereven was given to such bouts of silent thinking and meditating, ever attempting to reach some kind of conclusion about his brother's loss. He finished eating, however, and waited for Ánië, noting that she was eating more slowly; he gave her as much time as he needed.

"It is late now," he said. "Perhaps we should rest. I take my leave of you, now. If any nightly terror concerns you, seek me."

With that, he removed himself from his seat and went upstairs to the bedrooms above, where he meditated for many moments before finally going to sleep. The following morning, he would await Ánië in the dining room below. He would await her eating again before guiding her to the promised place, where they might meet the sage Tanendir. It was a decent walk through the streets of Fal'Addas, bustling (at least for elves) with activity and life flourishing at every corner, it seemed. Ereven had forgotten how much life there was in Fal'Addas compared to the many little hamlets he'd spent so much time saving over the years.

Finally, they reached a terrace, reachable by a small set of carved stone stairs. Atop it could be seen a group of elves sitting in a druidic circle, resting on stone chairs around a small series of stones in a circle. Without hesitation, Ereven led Ánië up the steps, greeting them.

"Greetings. I am Ereven Theruvanen, a travelling warrior, and this is Ánië, an elf from a faraway land she cannot remember. We come seeking the aid of the sage Tanendir, who in the past helped my own family; as Ánië is now my own charge, I too seek an answer for what ails her: amnesia, and grim nightmares."

The elves didn't move, but one opened his mouth after a long moment.

"Send forward the outsider, that she may speak," he said. His voice was low, almost booming, as it beckoned the she-elf. Ereven's eyes narrowed; he was always suspicious of magic and mages, even be they friendly, and elves to boot...
 
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