3. Lost

Lost


  • Evermeet

    The sight that had been rising on the horizon would have made many of her kind stare in awe, wonderment and gladness. The dour green haired elf had no such gawking in mind however, as she beheld the final leg of her journey reaching it’s completion as the glittering spires of Leuthilspar pierced the horizon before her. She had made use of some of the older ways to shorten her journey, but a sense of tradition made her decide to take the last part of the trip by sea, she was still respectful certainly, she just couldn’t make herself care about it. She watched the fortress on Sumbrar pass by as the approached the Isle and sighed faintly to herself in vexation at being unable to summon up a single shred of excitement at her impending arrival.

    Would that I had made this trip under more acceptable circumstances. No matter. The conditional tense serves only to mock me…

    After a moment she realised someone was standing behind her and stifling another sigh for the sake of politeness she turned to acknowledge them. It was the young attendant she had been assigned for the duration of the voyage. The young elf, certainly not more than just beginning her second century, curtsied hesitantly at her brooding charge.

    “We are nearing the end of our voyage now, Lady Senella.”

    “Indeed. So much I gathered with my eyes, child.”

    “Of course, Lady Senella. Our Captain wishes you to dine with him for the last meal of the voyage. Will you accept his offer?”

    She tried not to grimace at this, she had no desire to inflict the bother of her company on others as she was now, but it would be equally rude to decline the Captain’s offer, considering how much help he had been providing this passage.

    “You may inform the Captain I will dine with him, then”, she answered with another sigh, hoping the girl had nothing more to say she turned back to face the approaching Isle. Her hopes were answered with the rustle of another curtsy and the sound of brisk steps away from her. There she stayed for the remaining hours until she was called upon to prepare for her impending meal.

    She returned to her cabin lethargically and brushed her hair out of habit more than any desire for it to look well. As an afterthought she changed into a clean set of plain clothes before taking her staff and making her way weakly across the deck to the Captain’s Quarters. The helmsman ushered her inside and shut the door behind her. This was not her first time in the Captain’s Quarters and she was reminded again of her failure to take any pleasure in the various portraits, landscapes and other paintings the Captain had chosen to decorate it in. She nodded as the Captain rose to greet her, a slight elf, taller than she with silvery hair and an easy-going smile.

    “Lady Senella, you honour me with your presence on the final meal of the voyage. I had thought you would decline”, he greeted her with a grin that said he was glad she had not declined.

    “It would have been impolite of me to decline, Captain, after all you have done for me”, she responded somewhat coldly. If the Captain noticed or took any offence to her tone he didn’t show it, having no doubt become accustomed to her during the voyage. He motioned her to a seat which he drew back for her and seated himself when she was settled.

    “I suppose so, my lady, when you think of it as such”, he hesitated, clearly unsure of what to say next, and she certainly wasn’t going to help make conversation. She could not summon up any desire for talk. She simply looked at him impatiently until he blinked and snapped his fingers for their meal to be served to them.

    She ate little, her appetite was not up to much during her trip, considering she was suffering from nausea. The Captain had inquired as to if it were sea-sickness and after a scathing reply he had asked no more questions, having been very much assured it was not seasickness. In truth she still kept the source of her poor health covered by gloves, the touch of that poisonous wench of a goddess no longer infuriated her, she merely accepted it dully now as something she could not help much. Her lack of caring had also impelled her to disregarding her herb potions Daisy had brewed for her and this made her sickness begin to worsen again, though she failed to notice it herself.

    “I see you aren’t very hungry, my lady”, he ventured hopefully, though in vain as her reply cut short his conversational tone.

    “No Captain, I am not very hungry. I wish only to complete this voyage. Perhaps you ought concern yourself with your own meal.”

    He sighed and did as she suggested, more disappointed than offended, and she herself placed her silvery cutlery down and awaited him. When he had finished she arose without waiting for him to help her, took her staff and with the barest of curtsies left the cabin to return to her place looking at Evermeet on the deck. At once she noted the progress they had made. They were less than an hour from docking now and dusk was sweeping across the docks. She could make out dockhands lighting bright lanterns which glowed with a silvery light between the mirad of other ships blocking most of her view. She turned her view upwards at the shining glass spires of the city, denying focusing on without the light of sun or moon to better view them in.

    Then before she knew it she was stepping off the ship’s boarding ramp onto one of the many long polished marble docks, her attendant(whose name she had still failed to learn) carrying her belongings for her. Leaning on her staff she made her way down along the bustling dock, Fair Folk sweeping by on either side of her in all directions. At the end of the marble walkway and at the start of the docks proper she noted him awaiting her. The familiar look of worry adorning his strict face as he watched her approach, his long white hair falling in three braids behind him almost to his feet. Sri’bavta. Her old mentor. She nodded to him in greeting as she approached. If she had been able, she would have hugged him. Or cried.


  • The Dancers

    The months had gone by quickly. She was sitting in front of a small nondescript fountain, consecrated to Lliira. She didn’t look like she was praying, swirling her fingers idly in the water, occasionally chatting to Lady Rith nearby and taking breaks to have some food in the nearby town. Praying she was, however, and she was feeling much better for it. She had stepped off the ship from Damara into Peltarch with a sense of foreboding and left the city quickly for the Shrine to the south. She met only one of her friends on the way out the gates, Loreene, which she was glad for. One she could handle, even needed to safely make the trip without using an invisibility spell, but more she was not yet ready for. Loreene brought her up to speed on matters concerning poor Emma, though she was hard pressed to make herself listen to them. In Loreene’s company however, she managed to loosen up a bit, even make some jokes towards the end of the trip.

    Then there was a familiar growl as they were talking just outside the gates of the barbarian homestead, and a slap to her and Loreene’s behinds. It could be only one person. At first, she was scared she may not be ready to talk to Clandra yet, but she reflexively threw out her relatively new dispels at the Headmistress, though her aim was a little rusty, leaving the raven haired girl invisible. She appeared after a moment though and they hugged, happy to see each other again. Soon they were all joking again with Zy’thal and a nice paladin chap who had happened by and she resolved to speak to Clandra about her absence. If nothing else, Clandra deserved an explanation as to her sudden departure. So they hastened to the Shrine and sat down by the waterfall, the familiar place comforting the elf.

    She told Clandra she was sorry she had not left any note or explained to her before she left what was wrong with her, but the dancer was not upset. She asked in a reassuring tone if Eowiel would tell her what was wrong, so she did tell her. She was hesitant at first, relating matters slowly and haphazardly, but it was impossible for her to be uncomfortable for very long in the presence of one of her closest friends and she soon finished telling her everything from why she left, her time on Evermeet to her trip back. Her Headmistress listened quietly, hugging her and at the end of it the elven girl felt better. They spoke about religion and how they had been affected by it, how they treated it in the past and present. She felt gladdened and honoured in a sense, at what Clandra told her.

    She began to feel almost like she did years beforehand, before –her-. This was a relief beyond measure to her and though she was not sure how to express her gratitude to her dear friend, she was definitely sure Clandra understood anyway. They spoke on until Clandra had to leave and Eowiel walked over to the Shrine, greeting Lady Rith idly, and sat down to talk once more to her Patron.

    _Lliira, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I had not been sure that even with my new assurance relating to the Seldarine I could ever properly be joyous again. I do not credit Clandra’s nature to you, that thanks belongs to her alone, surely, but perhaps you had a hand in the happenstance of her meeting me as I travelled to your shrine. You have always been there for me, since I took you into my heart in Hoarsgate. I should never doubt that there can be joy in a person again, even in times like these. I have erred, My Lady and I know you forgive me. I have fears however, that I harbour a passion within me I have never felt save once.

    A desire to kill another, my Lady, anathema to your ways, to my ways and to my very person. I cannot abide these thoughts my Lady, but neither can I banish them. –She- broke every promise, broke so much- Is it surprising I am having violent thoughts about her now? After all this? Unsurprising, perhaps. Perhaps. Yes, I should not be entertaining them, even if it is clear why I am having them. A wish to take the life of another. Only those Thayans who captured my dearest sister have I felt like this about before. And I saw to it one of them was killed, helped to bring him down with my arrows with bloody murder in my soul. I cannot regret his murder, and I know we have been over this man hundreds of times, but I never thought I would feel that way about a person again. I never thought –she- could have done this to me either, however. I know these thoughts are wrong to listen to, but when I think of the moment in the Nars when I found her. Asked her if it were true. I cannot stand that she remains, continuing delightedly in her “new” life. I –hate- it. I hate few things, including hatred itself. I hate –her- more for doing this to me, making me feel this way now. I preferred myself miserable to a cheerful person who could commit murder.

    Yes. I know. Yes, I should put these feelings to one side until I can talk with my sister. She always knows how to handle things like that. I hope she has been well without me. Surely Clandra would have told me if she had not. Yes, she would have. I need not worry. I will remain with you for awhile longer before I am ready to see my sister again then, Lliira. I owe Demi too much to be poorly prepared for the explanation I must give her. I need time to make sure I make her no more sad than is necessary, you understand that very well, don’t you Lliira? That is why I love you too, Lliira. We are on the same track. Heheh. Alright. I’ll talk to you in a moment, I think I shall see if Lady Rith would like some lunch at the Boarshead._


  • Her Sister

    Her few supplies had long since been depleted, but there were berries enough to sate her meagre hunger when it troubled her during her months in the Grove. At his estate Sri’bavta was torn between wishing to respect her wishes and a wish to find her and try and talk some sense back into the girl. Her tone before she departed however made him choose the former. She had finished apologising for her failings to The First and the rest of the Seldarine and was now contemplating what course of action to take. She was devoid of even the remotest idea of what she should do. She had not expected any change from apologising to her gods, though she did feel far less on edge now.

    I could remain here for another few decades…hmm…no, I promised I would return to Narfell, didn’t I? I suppose it might be better for them if I broke that promise though, would it not Corellon? I have no wish to share any of my pain with others after all. Perhaps I ought remain here. Perhaps in time I will start to appreciate it properly and then I know I am in better spirits and can return with the knowledge that I can keep my friends from being sad to see me. Hm. I could not keep it from Demi ever though, could I? No. No, better not to think of her right now. My sister will merely make thoughts of shame and failure overcome me for another damned month. What? My sister…yes. Corellon…yes, bound by your name and our blood. Bound! I understand. You are truly the Protector and Preserver of my Life, my Lord!

    The elf’s eyes had sprung open at this thought, and she was gaping at the very realisation that had come to her. In her despair she was becoming the very thing she despised, her very trip was built around the fact that she had made a mockery out of a sacred bond, now she realised in her misery she had been blind to the fact that she was doing the same thing, if to a completely different bond.

    My sister…I should not have just left you behind like that! I should not have come here, and even! Even planned to stay for decades! I was about to become like –her- and care more about myself and my stupid problems here than spare enough thought for my own sister. My Lord, you have opened my eyes in time. I shall not ignore it. I said it myself, what? Five years ago? “…as long as I am living in my home with my sister I shall always have happiness, even in the grimmest of days…” No. I didn’t say it, did I? I wrote that as I recall. Hmpf. No matter. What now though? I believe I shall remain another two months. I owe poor Sri’bavta that after how I have treated him. I hope I shall make for better company now…though I doubt it. If there is any change in me however, I expect he is the one to see it.

    She spent the remainder of the tenday in prayers of thanks to Corellon Larethian and the Seldarine for giving her a path to follow before beginning the journey back to Leuthilspar. It was heavy going; she may have improved mentally, but physically her poor health was not helped at all by the fact she had had a diet of berries. She did not make haste however, and idly ambled her way back to the grand city, where she took a carriage to the estate in weariness. When the old elf appeared at the door as she slowly approached him she saw his eyes were filled with grief and she couldn’t help but lean up and give him a kiss on the cheek before excusing herself to her rooms to recuperate. When she arose, she found Sri’bavta flanked by a handmaid and a priest of Corellon glowering down on her.

    “My dear…you have practically starved yourself. Even if you were a healthy elf, I would not approve, but this is very irresponsible, now”, he chided, nodding to her table which was laden with various types of fare, “You will eat every morsel of what we have brought you whilst our friend here ensures your health does not suffer overmuch from your rash ways.”

    She grimaced at his words, but it was far more good natured and with the handmaid’s assistance she moved over to the table and began eating. After a moment she smirked faintly.

    “Calishite spices. Thank you Sri’bavta, you old stick in the mud”, her response brought a smile from him and he remained with her in silence whilst she ate and was treated by the relatively austere priest. She then informed him of her intention to stay for another two months before departing, which he met without surprise, though a little dismay at the shortness of her stay.

    “Such a pity your friends are all so short lived. You shall have to scold them on my behalf for cutting short your stay, my dear.”

    So it was with a less troubled heart that she spent the next two months trying to appreciate the splendor of Leuthilspar and the rest of the Isle, though her thoughts were elsewhere for most of it. She had made peace with Tel’Seldarine, however she had yet to address the Lady of Joy. She had already made up her mind to do this thousands of miles away at a tiny shrine in a small rainy village. She had plenty of time.


  • The First

    She sat languidly in her chambers in Sri’bavta’s estate. Small and homely, beautiful as the rest of the city, with the old mage’s obvious touch to it, though she could not bring herself to notice much of this beyond that it reminded her of the cottage where she was raised. Idly she turned on the only item she brought with her that seemed out of place in the richly furnished room; a gnomish music box. At the sound of it’s whirring music she sighed, thinking momentarily of Illthoran. Swiftly she shook this line of thought away, lest thoughts of him and the others she had taken leave of frustrate her more.

    She had spent the week in isolation, rarely leaving her chambers even to eat with Sri’bavta, either forgoing food or asking for little more than a morsel to be brought to her. Her old mentor was highly concerned and he made much effort to try and compel her to talk with him about whatever was troubling her, but she rebuffed him coldly at every attempt.

    He knows I am here because of the broken bond, and he needs to know no more. Better he keep up his useless efforts to lure me into conversation than learn anything of my despair…

    Now as she sat, surveying herself in the mirror she combed her hair, slapping the music box off to further banish any thoughts of Narfell. What she was thinking about however, was little better for her, in her opinion. Her thoughts had strayed to Lliira and Corellon. Now she was relieved she could not cry, the shame and loathing she felt when thinking about the Lady of Joy and the First of the Seldarine were the only emotions left driving her though, one of the two reasons she had come to Leuthilspar and Evermeet itself.

    “Your carriage is prepared Eowiel my dear. Are you sure you want to make this journey alone? I could-”, once more she cut the old elf off with a cutting retort.

    “You could, but shan’t, my friend. My accompaniment is greater than it would seem. Tel’Seldarine haunt my very mind, fitting for where I am heading, would you not say?” her tone was acidic, but it’s vehemence was not directed at him and he merely nodded sadly.

    As the carriage rode through Leuthilspar the early morning sun shone through the city as though it’s vibrancy was an assault on her emptiness. She was glad to leave the scene upon which many elves would be content to whittle away days gazing upon. Once out of the city walls and masses she stopped the driver and told him she would continue alone.

    “My lady, I wish you well. I hope you find what you are seeking, so easily things are lost when placed in the hands of humanity”, his tone took on a hint of scorn, “To give such a priceless thing into such unworthy hands, my dear lady, you have my-”

    “Shut up. Go away. And do not come back. Hm? Splendid. Sir Sri’bavta will handle your payment. Now. Go.”, she was vaguely aware that he must have spoken with one of the crew who brought her to Evermeet, considering she had naturally been honest about her reasons for wanting passage to them. She failed to care about their lack of discretion or even his rudeness in speaking of it, she merely sent him away because he was distracting her, and he had given her good enough excuse to do away with pointless pleasantries. Now that she had been very indulgent of them thus far in any case.

    She continued on northwards through the glades and forests for a few days, resting only once she was sure she had passed into the sacred northern part of the Island, Corellon’s Grove. She had encountered a few others on her way, but she brushed by them with a faint nod and nothing more. Now she found a quiet glade, settled herself down under a sheltering willow and knelt slowly, reluctantly in homage to Corellon Larethian. She had been a faithful follower of The Protector her entire life, she had always felt that he had watched over her as an elf and as a bard. In elven terms her worship of Lliira was a recent development, but she never considered it to conflict with her devotion to Corellon. Certainly she always believed she had a lot to thank both deities for. Now, however, her reluctance was born of her sense of shame.

    Coronal of Arvandor, Protector and Preserver of My Life, hear my unworthy prayer. I have failed. I have failed myself, Tel’Quessir, Tel’Seldarine and yourself. I have allowed our most sacred bond to become a thing of folly, whimsy and betrayal. I failed to listen to wise counsel which would have prevented this. I failed to heed any of my own doubts in my heart. I failed. Completely. As one of Tel’Quessir. As a friend. As a supposedly devout follower. As a sister. So I have made this journey, to acknowledge what I have lost for my transgressions. I have not come to beg forgiveness from you, my Lord. I have come to apologise. I have made something so sacred into a mockery. For this, I cannot ask, nor deserve, forgiveness. Nor do I seek punishment. I have learned the hardest lesson, in the hardest way. This removal of my ignorance will suffice for punishment in my eyes. Should you see otherwise, so be it my Lord. I will not die of grief. Nor will I take my life willingly. I will live with this until my soul goes to it’s rest.

    The birds soon grew accustomed to her presence under their tree and payed her no more mind. They were hardly cautious of the Fair Folk in any case. The sun rose and fell, stars twinkled and days, weeks and months passed the solitary elf. Passers-by did not disturb her prayer. She was relating every detail of her troubles to her Protector and Preserver that he might preserve her from losing herself totally to the emptiness in her soul. And he listened.