The vestige / they/them/theirs

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A'du diel sha

"Go."There was a brush over their cheek, where a recent bruise has had started to bleed again. Though healing efforts had rarely been an issue for the elf, they have had taken a miniscule toll on the long-term health of the quel'dorei. Such was apparent in this instance."Won't you let me explain, at the very least?"A frowned pair of long, brown brows were seen on the short-framed elf. Dark blue eyes turned to darts, thrown at their new nemesis. An unease, an outburst of anger from this young soul. It was all there was to feel."You've led me on. There's nothing left to explain in your infidelity."Observant of the other elf's reactions, the smaller one had bitten into the corner of their mouth. A tall frame of genuine outer perfection, if perceived from a lense from vanity and elven heritage. Genes, trimmed to perfection through generations of noble lineage, keen on keeping the bloodline pristine and elegant in appearance. A contrast to the heartbroken elf, who was more timid and of poor standing. Their fates intertwined by chance, to blossom in eternal spring.Alas, time did not play favour for any of them. Nobility's duty called."It was not my choice, but my father's. If I could make this stance, I would. De'ashenu-"Blood had culminated on the wound anew, and a tap on it generated further reddening. The elf hesitated, before letting the dialogue fade, hands aligned to the temple. An elegant twirl to the side, the body arched down to take a hold over the two books dropped that had been lost during the initial exchange."A'du diel sha, O'durelis. I wish you the best, naturally.""Wait-"The elf did not pause. With fast step, they resumed the tread back home, with a melachonic sound echoing through their mouth. Stepping through the crowds of attendees of the academy was harsh enough. Pretending to be unaffected by what just happened was the only reasonable reaction on their mind now. The stairs leading up to the student hospitalities were quickly ascended, and once there, a suffocating pressure filled their throat.With a melodic click, the magical door went shut. Ulterior silence. Even within the throat. Reddening cheeks burning, exaggerating the burning wound to re-open and for blood to run down the pristine white and golden blouse. Fingers choked for air, a gasp. None to be heard.The voice went silent. But the pain would never fade.

~ ♪♫ ~

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Birds of Prey

The migraine hasn’t stopped in inflicting pain, so I withdraw my fingers from the ranger kneeling in front of me to massage below the temple for just a brief moment. Without interrupting the spell, I start to weave it in a loop to circle around my brain before soothing the organ. A bit better again. My heavy fingertips brush over the closed eyelids to push them upward, seeking to cast a final blessing on the other blood elf who sought me out. There is more gathered in a disciplined line to my front, so I wave at them to beckon closer as I dismiss the ranger. A cluster of blood knights, farstriders, spellblades, even a magister now gather to head into the inevitable battle with the Sunwell’s enhanced boon.
My hands are pressed together as I begin to chant one of many familiar hymns to evoke the ever-present connection within all of the attentive elves, and then thrust my hands forward to award everyone a drop of pure, radiant Light, pushing it deep into the core of the troops. An audible gasp can be heard here and there between the lightning that strikes nearby, and the howling wind that makes me shiver evermore than the last one did. For once, I am glad that cloth covers skin in areas that would otherwise be more liberally displayed.As I begin to let the spell fade and eventually dismiss the gathered ones, I am briefly shocked to the core to notice a stalwart figure linger by my side, and cannot help but make myself noticeable by gasping. Red plate armour with a long ranseur appearing from behind the shoulderparts. Only as the tall elf removes his helmet can I discern his identity; charcoal-black hair that has been shortened only recently, a wide scar that lingers right where an eyebrow usually starts to grow, and the distinctive, green tattoo that cascades over most of his left face, infused with botanic magic.“Fymril”, I utter with a disbelieving whisper, probably blinking a dozen times as I feel my heart sink deep into my guts.I haven’t had the opportunity to meet my brother often, especially in recent times. He regards me with a small smile, though the distant flicker in his verdant eyes is as cool as ever. I push the urge to run down the stairs and teleport off into the distance down my system, alongside my emotions and some of my heart beating where I can feel it less, and square my shoulders to look composed again. He is a head taller than me, which does me little favour in trying to signal my seniority.“You decided to stay”, he begins to announce with a flaringly deep and taunting voice, “though I do not know if this is yet another one of your ruses. Try to stay until the battle is over this time.”His deep leftward tilt to look at me sternly makes me witness the reflection of yet another lightning strike from the long, golden metal plate rim that he considers good jewelry. It is not an efficient ear ring, which makes me ponder if just three hundred years can make the difference between high fashion and looking like a Murder Row agent.I have hardly enough time to register the interaction before he has headed off again. For a second, I consider ordering him to return; I would be in the right, even when opposing a blood knight, seeing as he did not ask for my blessing. And yet I find myself unable to open my mouth. A lasting wound, this one. I do not think I will ever be able to make him see me as anything more than a thorn to his side, a bad memory best left for the dead. I cannot blame him for it.
There is a rouse in the background, anxious chittering. I notice a heaviness in the air just as the giant cloud above us starts to crack open, and ready myself for what might be the last stance of Dovecrest. It has been twenty-five years; this time, I am prepared, united, reformed. I will not succumb to the one who kept me isolated from my own people. Never again.

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Let it be known

Let it be known, that we persist
As elvenkind, we have been blessed
Our hearts they glow, our skin sun-kissed
And now, to rise again is to be graced
For all that has befallen to us
It never made us cease to existLet it be known, and let it be shown
We are sin'dorei, we are the beacon
Those that light the way unknown
For our legacy is still being writtenLet it be known to those that discredit
They do not know what it means to be
From Quel'thalas, for all their merit
A human being shall never see
The beauty of an Eversong tree
Or pure delight from Fairbreeze VillageAnd so I stand here, watched by all
Who know the truth, who honour the fallen
We survived the horrors of the Fall
Just to rise above them allAnd as the warmth of day fades away
A memory of the past appears in front of me
It is my mother, and with a smile she says
"De'ashenu, thor dela'na, felo'ani."

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Seaside stargazing

'Twas an iridescent grove we lived in,
All good things, they came together in harmony.
The forests were old, but my body, youth-brimming,
It stood in place, like the brightest melody.Centuries passed, and my grove is no more,
My ancestors, and yours too- I digress.
They came back to me, sat on this shore,
As the Tides of Starlight shook me with its caress.Memories flood me, old and new, they come to me, at times badly screwed.
To this I say: "Thine very own, forgotten image of the forlorn".
When, truth is, I merely sat here, dreaming of times well-spent, alone.
This, I recognised on my own, as flowers swirled over the scroll.

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Lingering

Every morning, I bid the birds farewell
They pass my letters on, through sunny hills, through storms
Yet one always returns, meek like the little bell
Sigil unbroken, still hot from scorching warmsSo I try anew, the ceremony of pigeons and mail
They all find their way, so effortlessly
Birds that pass through gale and hail
Except for one, who returns unceremoniouslyThis failure gets me working, from day to night
To reach a dove requires careful handling, I know
Perchance the way is lost, with no trace of light
That, despite her prayers, it is filled with woeTo hold my mother again is to be free of fright
To apologise for my misdeeds, to be fully grown
So that the doves may take off again, in flight
To bask in spring eternal, to remain, ever grownBut I know deep down, that this may not come to pass
I scryed through the Veil once, and it was no delight
A million spectres, aghast, marching on palest grass
And with no familiar face around, I withdrew the sightI do not know where you linger now, family of mine
I know only to honour you with every waking memory
And to hope that a part of you lingers like the wine
That I drink with people at this annual revelry

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Warmth

When I chased you the most, you left me to wait by the gate
When I needed you the most, you never came
And now, every summer, I recall the times when you were late
For you, love, I always would have taken the blameYour greatness, your dark blond exceptionalism
It pales in comparison to all the faces I have mused over in later years
Even now that I have gained all of my wisdom
Your kiss lingers on my cheek, like deadly homes in southern spheresAnd though I know you have long since moved on
To another realm, another life, a new existence to the Veil beyond
I still regard you with everlasting warmth
And growing pains, as I walk along the noble families, their courtyards
Since this was your territory, and my lark
You taught me all about its glamorous ideals, and how to play my cards
To keep posture right, to dance in hallsSometimes I laugh when I think of you
Other times, there are tears when remembering the pain you caused
You did always fit me like a well-crafted shoe
Still, even items that were once attuned to you can so easily get lost
And I have walked bare-footed ever since
Tried on different pairs, for a while, then walked back to the woods
Familiar territory, paint the picture in bliss
But it is just your vestige that remains now, one that charmingly luresI tell myself: “’Tis just a memory of brighter days, when I danced in glee”
“Had all the time left to choose my own philosophies”
As now, at last, I know that the child I once was, so easily impressed
By warmth radiating from another, when it never was enough to be smothered
But times have changed now, I have grown stronger
A touch colder, too, but I keep my love for the summer forests
For they still radiate after all these years
Eversong is always warmer
As long as you remember to let old souls rest

dae'dion dovecrest

cynical idealist. memory of better days.

[they/them/theirs] & [xe/xem/xyr]