Post by Joliette Thorne on May 25, 2008 10:00:23 GMT -5
Thalion strolls along the coastline, the mild breeze streaking his long black hair behind him, like a loose scarf. The High Elf hardly notices Tenebrae there as he gazes out across the narrow body of water and out to the island, wondering to himself who might inhabit such a place. The sea held a special place in Thalion's heart, as it did for most of his kind, and he was absorbed by it, until he glimpsed the solitary figure in his periphery. He turned towards her and awaited her recognition in turn.
Tenebrae had her back pressed against a rock, eyes trained out over a horizon that misted at the edges where sea met sky and where each cloud hid false hope; each thunder-laden shadow, trimmed in the sun's scarlet edge, played on her nerves like the strings of an instrument. Hope, and hopelessness. Minor and sharp notes. Ice-green eyes that misted, like that horizon. Her senses were tripped, her self-indulgence scattered, a man approached. Palm itching for her dagger, she would relax only a little when Thalion's identity became apparent. If he neared, she'd nod a greeting.
Thalion sees the distant nod, pleased for some reason to see her again. The past few days had been uneventful apart from the hunt and she had been responsible for it, and what had happened as a consequence. Perhaps there were more adventures to be had with this forlorn looking woman? He gave no thought as to why she rested alone here, for the Children of Darkness were solitary creatures, and he silently gathered his thoughts as he strode across the clifftop's soft grass that barely bent under his feathery step. Approaching, Thalion offered a smile in greeting, "Well met, Tenebrae." he said, with his voice as smooth as pebbles on the beach below, "I trust that you are well?"
Tenebrae was a living contradiction, to herself, to the world about her. Irony ruled her life, a sardonic god whose humour had both doomed and saved her countless times, and with the selfsame hand. Hardly a moment passed that it did not conquer, and there were few questions put to her that might be answered in as simple terms as "Well, thankyou," or "I am shattered." The best she could do was change the subject, lapse to acerbic drollness, turning her eyes tot he sea again. "Ah, it's the noble Elf. What brings you so far from the tavern? Are there no more drunks to protect?"
Thalion physically stopped himself from laughing out loud at the remark. Strange, seeing as self control was one of his worst traits, so he contented to give an audible chuckle. So unusual, this being, that she should both enrage and yet encapsulate him so forcefully at once. One of the reasons he sought to speak and interact with her again, perhaps, though certainly the most colourful and entertaining people he had met thus far. "No more than there are maidens in need of saving." he replied openly in a tone dripping with sarcasm, "I apologize if you were seeking solitude, I was merely gazing out to sea. It reminds me of how small I yet am and the possibilities of the world." This much was true, for all creatures are somehow humbled and yet intoxicated by the sea's dangerous allure. he moved to the woman’s' side, though a respectable distance away until he had more accurately gauged her mood.
Tenebrae's eyes, still trained upon the sea, narrowed a little. Something familiar... she shook her head, mentally, shrugging off the feeling. Whatever meditatory frame of mind she'd been in was gone, and she stretched catlike, a little smirk placed just so on lips that still yet bore a faint trace of glitter. "It's alright. I was not seeking solitude." Were Irony really a god, he might have laughed. "I have learned to love the sea, though it frightens me still." Swivelling lightly in a half-turn to face him, her legs dangling over the rock, crossed at the ankles, she'd nail Thalion with one of her abrupt and direct addresses, her gaze suddenly hawklike. "What makes your people different to the wood elves? Apart from..." A glance to the ocean and back. "You're all so... you know. Uppity." And there was not a trace of sly insult in it; she merely had an urchin's mouth, and often lapsed to it when words failed her.
Thalion 's eyes widened a little, not quite expecting the curtness, yet certainly expecting the almost playful aggression of her question. But, like most of his kin, he already knew why they were different and why the High Elves were superior, "Because we were born into grace, whilst the Wood Elves were not. We have learned to tame the beast inside and seek to conquer the mind." he replied, with all the calm and surety of a Dragon playing with a Human, "They demean their immortality by living in trees, associating with woodland creatures and claiming what is not rightfully theirs by birth." Perhaps a streak of anger and remorse coursed through him now as his face became a little more serious at the topic, "They are 'uppity' because they are immortal and believe themselves wise. We are 'uppity' because we are immortal and most definitely wise, though our forces were not strong enough to depose the pretenders when they fought us for supremacy." A touch of guilt and shame flowed over his graceful features here and he said no more, yet showed no direction of his discontent toward the questioner.
Tenebrae was, apart from being relatively young by comparison of age, young of mind as well and largely ignorant of the world's ancient history. The bits and pieces she gleaned through conversation were precious; she did not trust books, the words of people whose eyes she could not see, could not gauge for veracity. Thalion's directness was welcome, and eagerly set to memory. Her voice would carry more than a hint of eagerness. "If there is such a tale as I imagine to it all, then I would hear the whole of it one day from you, if..." Not quite a frown, as she studied the traces of emotion fleeting from his own features. "You would not mind telling it to me."
Thalion looked at the woman directly, his own personal tragedy forgotten for the time being. Tenebrae seemed as volatile as a lioness; playful and lazy one moment, then sharp and aggressive the next. She fascinated him as much as the ocean did the both of them. "It is a lengthy tale," he said with a cautionary tone, "But I should be most pleased to recount it in order to satiate your curiosity." he gave a small leap, though appeared to take an impossibly graceful step upon a nearby boulder and half knelt upon it, "Would you like to hear it now?" he asked, feeling almost eager at her interest in his race's past.
As the Elf made his ascent to the rock, so Tene returned her back to lean upon the one behind. Whatever marvelling she did at his agility was kept to herself, but at his offer all mourning visibly fled from her, like a cloud of bats swirling back to a cavemouth in the face of the sun's bright rise, and she nodded. "That I would."
Thalion gave a smile and settled himself in thought, staring unblinkingly out to the sea, all becoming a haze around him as the memories and experiences flooded back, "It was many thousands of years ago, when the Eldar first laid their hand to the earth and formed the first of us; their children, formed in vision of themselves and blessed with eternal life and grace..." he paused slightly before continuing, his face a mere blank now, "Though not with the blessing of invulnerability. We were the Eldar's most treasured possession and creation and were all created in harmony, living among the forests, the plains and grasslands. All was peaceful, even with the other races who were envious of our grace and knowledge of magic." he took a more comfortable position now, seated fully upon the boulder, wind tousling at his shimmering hair, "Our first centuries were glorious; peaceful, full of wonder, discovery and harmony with all around us. We spoke with the creatures and taught them how we could serve each other and tilled the land to provide sustenance for our people. All lived as they pleased, neither preferring tree to hovel and all was good." A vision of tranquillity and peace he looked now, his eyes in that far distant place, so happy and so full of memory.
Tenebrae could not envision such a world as he described, but his poignant description, the idyllic expression he wore, the longing in his tone, all caused a kind of ache in her. Her own short and brutal existence lacked both the dignity and beauty he spoke of and, apart from their basest manifestations or those which she unconsciously reflected from the people around her like a cheap mirror, something she did not posses either, and craved as an urchin child craves love. Riveted, she could only nod dumbly by way of urging him to continue the tale.
Thalion broke from his moments of silence to carry on the story, "Yet the other races were not so tranquil, nor were they able to keep their own affairs to themselves. Gradually the envy, suspicion and war-mongering forced the Council of Eldar to elect a leader for times of war against the newly created Orcs and their hordes of ruthless butchers, or the ever xenophobic Dwarves and their conspiracies, lest it was the Humans and their much divided kingdoms that would come to bring their wars to our borders and cities." he sighed both physically and mentally, displeased by the recounting of this troubled time in the far distant past. He closed his eyes now, "And so our King was crowned, Sarathen, with his Queen, Elentai. This was a defining moment for us, for we were never used to being involved deeply with others affairs, least of all being forced to. Yet the Dwarven machines of war, the Orc's brutality and curious ingenuity of Humans that was spurred on by their short lifespans, meant that the time of equality and peace was to crumble and form us into a new shape. Soldiers, archers and politicians were forged from the gentle farmers and forest dwellers, practically tearing the fabric of our society apart, as one may tear a piece of cloth over the course of centuries." his face had turned to a scowl now and he took several deep breaths before seeking to continue.
Tenebrae broke from the reverie she'd entered, her eyes flitting to 'see' the things that she imagined as he spoke, at the sound of distress in Thalion's tone. She'd stretch one hand out, to hover a moment over his. Retract it. Glance down at the rock. "I'm sorry." For him, or for her former race's lack, or for the loss of grace. Perhaps all of it. He might not hear her, so soft was her speech, and she immediately engaged him in her attention, more directly, actively listening as the tale wound on.
Thalion bowed his head, knowing that the Vampiress had not turned her attention away, "So it became that tiers were created in what was once the Summerland itself. Bitter quarrels began to break out between the sections of our society; discontent at their treatment, or others superiority over them and almost certainly the difference in ideology that became evident. Huge cracks appeared, as the earth when it shakes beneath ones feet, and gulfs became impassable between us all." almost a tear formed in the Elf's eyes as he imagined the anger and torment of his peaceful people, "Then some dared to question the Royal lines, claiming them unfit to lead and accusing them of transforming our people into nothing more than immortal Humans, with all their pettiness and faults. Perhaps it were true, yet the King and Queen had held stead through the rise and fall of many civilisations of man and Dwarf, their right as rulers and Light of the Eldar was unquestioned to the rest of us. But they could not be talked down from their standpoint and with much anguish, the Elven War of Succesion had begun." Here came a long pause, and one from which many would not expect him to continue.
Tenebrae was a consummate hunter of tales, and knew when one was finished, or its teller exhausted of subject or will to continue. That silence he entered now seemed simply a re-settling of things to their place within him, as a swan's back of feathers ruffled by a wind, or leaves blown up from below a Fall oak. So, she waited, mentally digesting what he'd said so far. Once human, she knew that race for it' impetuosity, especially since she'd had for several centuries the perspective of a vampire's longer span. But the dwarves... a younger race.. and the orcs? To her they were ancients, all. Questions started to tingle the tip of her tongue, though she did not sully Thalion's silence with them.
Thalion gathered his thoughts once more and with an audible sound of trepidation, he continued on, "It began, at first, with a separation into factions; the Sindarin, or Wood Elves, and the Quenya, the High Elves who were seen by many still to this day as being the sole arbiters of the Eldar's will. But with pockets of Quenya and Sindarin scattered over the Elven kingdom, it was impossible to maintain any semblance of order. Bickering and in-fighting between the two sides went unchecked and unstoppable over trivial things as land, property, rights and countless other things that seem meaningless for what it led to. then the first blow was struck by the Sindarin as they marched upon the capital, Leafglade, with an army twice that of any the Elves have ever held. They had rallied troops from over their territory, intent on making their demands heard through force, rather than our natural mediation. The cities guards were overwhelmed and surprised beyond measure. the battle was short lived and many simply fled, few losing their lives, yet the wound was felt so deeply and so strongly among the Quenya, that it was only a short time before we took up arms ourselves. This is also the reason that we call them betrayers and those without nobility. We were never willing or able to bring the disputes into open warfare as they had." he lulled a little and gave the merest sign of a shiver at the recollection, "The sindarin, being people of the forest and mostly hunters, had armed themselves with our bows, whilst we had the more commonplace swords and shields that we used to repel the encroaching armies of other races. They used tactics of stealth and cunning, whilst we had long ago forsaken these means, by manner of our engagements with Humans especially, defeating them upon their own terms. unfortunately, this was to their advantage, as the first counterattacks came and we would come to a completely deserted village or town, only to be ambushed or picked off by small groups. As the attacks became more frequent, eventually our own tactics changed to make it more difficult for them; thicker armour and broader shields, forcing them to engage us in gruesome, abhorrent battles. It was neighbour against neighbour, family pitched against each other, bloodlines and sacrament forgotten as the blood flowed ankle-deep in the streets and fields and forests. never had so much immortal life been wasted in our history, nor so much rage been felt by our kin, even toward other races. Countless battles were fought and lost to the Sindarin. Effortless numbers swelled their ranks by turncoats and those taking up arms who were otherwise contented to allow the rage to die out. Soon, we were forced into our fortresses, barricading ourselves inside and repelling wave after wave of assaults. My own hands were made to bludgeon my own kind into the afterlife and brutally tear into ranks of foes that I would have called my brothers not decades before. I know not to this day how many had died by my hand." another long pause ensued, but his face had calmed to a natural stillness, gathering once more his memories.
Of it all, of the whole terrible story that he told, what rang in her mind like a remnant knell was, "immortal life... wasted." Tene was not by nature the most empathic of creatures. Indeed, she possessed a heart at all only by sheer chance and an accident of Fate ironically -- always, with the irony -- exacerbated by the man whose name was echoed so closely by Thalion's own. But tragedy, this she understood, and loss. Grief. Her own, so immense as to crack the foundation of her very being, seemed suddenly trifling. She could not help, this time, but risk the sting of him spurning the hand that stretched, timidly, to cover his own. But whether it was for his comfort or hers was a matter she gave no thought at all.
Thalion steadies his nerves for another delve, deep inside himself, the faces and places all coming sharply back into focus from centuries ago, some not thought of since that time, "And so, both armies exhausted and the Kingdom well and truly shattered, a peace was brokered. The High Elves would stay in their cities, whilst the Wood Elves would take the woodland and grazelands. Neither side was truly happy with the final agreement, but we were all so relieved at the end to violence and being able to stay our weapons, that none of the details mattered. Many longed for the war to be forgotten altogether and a return made to the coexistence of both factions, but this was beyond ability now. Too much blood lay on too many hands." he gave another long sigh, but one that seemed pleased to not be recounting the violence of his people, "It came to an age of rebuilding and resettlement for all the Elves as we consolidated our losses and attempted to build upon what we had left. The Drow came now, in much greater numbers; those who had once been tortured beyond recognition by the Orcs were now joined by those who had been mutilated and horrified by the actions of our people, seeking safety under the earth. They ended up hating both sides with a furious passion, though they were never strong enough in the early times to ever have posed a threat. More centuries passed with Sindarin in the woodland and Quenya in the cities, until the High Elves departed for the Undying lands beyond the sea. Many to forget the brutality, some to seek a new life without borders or fear of Imperial races of Humans or dwarves. Very few of us remained and the Sindarin came to claim the abandoned cities. Only within the last few decades have some returned; a few for revenge, but many for the love of their unforgotten homelands. The Sindarin do not seem to mind, with their foothold long since established here, and a manner of agreeable, if not uncomfortable existence seems to prevail for the first time in three millennia." This seemed to be the end of his tale and the High Elf's eyes opened finally and he lay back a little, still somewhat deep in thought.
Tenebrae withdrew her hand, the gesture appearing quite useless to the Elf, and curled her fingers to themselves while she listened to the rest of the tale. So many questions... her mind reeled with them, the least of which concerned her own kind, as if she could claim to being wholly a part of the Vampiric, or indeed any, race. But her acquaintance was tired now, the tale flagging to its end. She would seek his eyes with her own, and speak only a truly genuine, "Thankyou."
Thalion 's composure remained unchanged for the most part, a fairly solemn look upon his windswept features. He turned to meet her gaze and found a deep, honest feeling within those dazzling green hues. "You are most welcome." he replied, although somewhat regretting the return of some thoughts that he had long since hidden within his past. He did not feel anger towards the Wood Elves any more, but certainly felt the sting of having his race torn asunder and forced to draw his own kindred blood.
Tenebrae had no real idea of what to say after that. Robbed, by the raw immensity of his story and feeling both, of snappy change-of-topic segues or manipulative little smirks to bring attention back her own way, she returned her eyes to the sea, to let him brush the sorrow and weight from the air between them or not, as was his will.
Thalion proceeds to stand, allowing the cool, soothing breeze to wash over him and dissipate the anguish which began to boil beneath the surface of his mind. A sense of normality was restored within himself as was the situation on the clifftop. The High Elf once again turns to the Vampiress, "I hope that has answered some of your questions, though I think that more may have opened themselves." he said, allowing the traces of a smile to play on his lips. "I must leave you in a moment, but I shall look forward to our next meeting with much anticipation." He waits for her reply, knowing that she is deep in her own thoughts.
Tenebrae said to Thalion, "Indeed, many more questions. If I might plague you with them, some time..." She smiled, sensing his mood clear in the wind. "Next time, then. Perhaps."
Thalion said to Tenebrae, "Of course, I feel it is necessary. It would be unfair for you to have so many unanswered questions after such a long sitting. Namaarie, mellonin." He replies as he begins to leave, "Fare thee well, my friend."
Friend. A formality, surely. All the same, she'd nod, wave at his departure, and continue her eternal, evening vigil.
Tenebrae had her back pressed against a rock, eyes trained out over a horizon that misted at the edges where sea met sky and where each cloud hid false hope; each thunder-laden shadow, trimmed in the sun's scarlet edge, played on her nerves like the strings of an instrument. Hope, and hopelessness. Minor and sharp notes. Ice-green eyes that misted, like that horizon. Her senses were tripped, her self-indulgence scattered, a man approached. Palm itching for her dagger, she would relax only a little when Thalion's identity became apparent. If he neared, she'd nod a greeting.
Thalion sees the distant nod, pleased for some reason to see her again. The past few days had been uneventful apart from the hunt and she had been responsible for it, and what had happened as a consequence. Perhaps there were more adventures to be had with this forlorn looking woman? He gave no thought as to why she rested alone here, for the Children of Darkness were solitary creatures, and he silently gathered his thoughts as he strode across the clifftop's soft grass that barely bent under his feathery step. Approaching, Thalion offered a smile in greeting, "Well met, Tenebrae." he said, with his voice as smooth as pebbles on the beach below, "I trust that you are well?"
Tenebrae was a living contradiction, to herself, to the world about her. Irony ruled her life, a sardonic god whose humour had both doomed and saved her countless times, and with the selfsame hand. Hardly a moment passed that it did not conquer, and there were few questions put to her that might be answered in as simple terms as "Well, thankyou," or "I am shattered." The best she could do was change the subject, lapse to acerbic drollness, turning her eyes tot he sea again. "Ah, it's the noble Elf. What brings you so far from the tavern? Are there no more drunks to protect?"
Thalion physically stopped himself from laughing out loud at the remark. Strange, seeing as self control was one of his worst traits, so he contented to give an audible chuckle. So unusual, this being, that she should both enrage and yet encapsulate him so forcefully at once. One of the reasons he sought to speak and interact with her again, perhaps, though certainly the most colourful and entertaining people he had met thus far. "No more than there are maidens in need of saving." he replied openly in a tone dripping with sarcasm, "I apologize if you were seeking solitude, I was merely gazing out to sea. It reminds me of how small I yet am and the possibilities of the world." This much was true, for all creatures are somehow humbled and yet intoxicated by the sea's dangerous allure. he moved to the woman’s' side, though a respectable distance away until he had more accurately gauged her mood.
Tenebrae's eyes, still trained upon the sea, narrowed a little. Something familiar... she shook her head, mentally, shrugging off the feeling. Whatever meditatory frame of mind she'd been in was gone, and she stretched catlike, a little smirk placed just so on lips that still yet bore a faint trace of glitter. "It's alright. I was not seeking solitude." Were Irony really a god, he might have laughed. "I have learned to love the sea, though it frightens me still." Swivelling lightly in a half-turn to face him, her legs dangling over the rock, crossed at the ankles, she'd nail Thalion with one of her abrupt and direct addresses, her gaze suddenly hawklike. "What makes your people different to the wood elves? Apart from..." A glance to the ocean and back. "You're all so... you know. Uppity." And there was not a trace of sly insult in it; she merely had an urchin's mouth, and often lapsed to it when words failed her.
Thalion 's eyes widened a little, not quite expecting the curtness, yet certainly expecting the almost playful aggression of her question. But, like most of his kin, he already knew why they were different and why the High Elves were superior, "Because we were born into grace, whilst the Wood Elves were not. We have learned to tame the beast inside and seek to conquer the mind." he replied, with all the calm and surety of a Dragon playing with a Human, "They demean their immortality by living in trees, associating with woodland creatures and claiming what is not rightfully theirs by birth." Perhaps a streak of anger and remorse coursed through him now as his face became a little more serious at the topic, "They are 'uppity' because they are immortal and believe themselves wise. We are 'uppity' because we are immortal and most definitely wise, though our forces were not strong enough to depose the pretenders when they fought us for supremacy." A touch of guilt and shame flowed over his graceful features here and he said no more, yet showed no direction of his discontent toward the questioner.
Tenebrae was, apart from being relatively young by comparison of age, young of mind as well and largely ignorant of the world's ancient history. The bits and pieces she gleaned through conversation were precious; she did not trust books, the words of people whose eyes she could not see, could not gauge for veracity. Thalion's directness was welcome, and eagerly set to memory. Her voice would carry more than a hint of eagerness. "If there is such a tale as I imagine to it all, then I would hear the whole of it one day from you, if..." Not quite a frown, as she studied the traces of emotion fleeting from his own features. "You would not mind telling it to me."
Thalion looked at the woman directly, his own personal tragedy forgotten for the time being. Tenebrae seemed as volatile as a lioness; playful and lazy one moment, then sharp and aggressive the next. She fascinated him as much as the ocean did the both of them. "It is a lengthy tale," he said with a cautionary tone, "But I should be most pleased to recount it in order to satiate your curiosity." he gave a small leap, though appeared to take an impossibly graceful step upon a nearby boulder and half knelt upon it, "Would you like to hear it now?" he asked, feeling almost eager at her interest in his race's past.
As the Elf made his ascent to the rock, so Tene returned her back to lean upon the one behind. Whatever marvelling she did at his agility was kept to herself, but at his offer all mourning visibly fled from her, like a cloud of bats swirling back to a cavemouth in the face of the sun's bright rise, and she nodded. "That I would."
Thalion gave a smile and settled himself in thought, staring unblinkingly out to the sea, all becoming a haze around him as the memories and experiences flooded back, "It was many thousands of years ago, when the Eldar first laid their hand to the earth and formed the first of us; their children, formed in vision of themselves and blessed with eternal life and grace..." he paused slightly before continuing, his face a mere blank now, "Though not with the blessing of invulnerability. We were the Eldar's most treasured possession and creation and were all created in harmony, living among the forests, the plains and grasslands. All was peaceful, even with the other races who were envious of our grace and knowledge of magic." he took a more comfortable position now, seated fully upon the boulder, wind tousling at his shimmering hair, "Our first centuries were glorious; peaceful, full of wonder, discovery and harmony with all around us. We spoke with the creatures and taught them how we could serve each other and tilled the land to provide sustenance for our people. All lived as they pleased, neither preferring tree to hovel and all was good." A vision of tranquillity and peace he looked now, his eyes in that far distant place, so happy and so full of memory.
Tenebrae could not envision such a world as he described, but his poignant description, the idyllic expression he wore, the longing in his tone, all caused a kind of ache in her. Her own short and brutal existence lacked both the dignity and beauty he spoke of and, apart from their basest manifestations or those which she unconsciously reflected from the people around her like a cheap mirror, something she did not posses either, and craved as an urchin child craves love. Riveted, she could only nod dumbly by way of urging him to continue the tale.
Thalion broke from his moments of silence to carry on the story, "Yet the other races were not so tranquil, nor were they able to keep their own affairs to themselves. Gradually the envy, suspicion and war-mongering forced the Council of Eldar to elect a leader for times of war against the newly created Orcs and their hordes of ruthless butchers, or the ever xenophobic Dwarves and their conspiracies, lest it was the Humans and their much divided kingdoms that would come to bring their wars to our borders and cities." he sighed both physically and mentally, displeased by the recounting of this troubled time in the far distant past. He closed his eyes now, "And so our King was crowned, Sarathen, with his Queen, Elentai. This was a defining moment for us, for we were never used to being involved deeply with others affairs, least of all being forced to. Yet the Dwarven machines of war, the Orc's brutality and curious ingenuity of Humans that was spurred on by their short lifespans, meant that the time of equality and peace was to crumble and form us into a new shape. Soldiers, archers and politicians were forged from the gentle farmers and forest dwellers, practically tearing the fabric of our society apart, as one may tear a piece of cloth over the course of centuries." his face had turned to a scowl now and he took several deep breaths before seeking to continue.
Tenebrae broke from the reverie she'd entered, her eyes flitting to 'see' the things that she imagined as he spoke, at the sound of distress in Thalion's tone. She'd stretch one hand out, to hover a moment over his. Retract it. Glance down at the rock. "I'm sorry." For him, or for her former race's lack, or for the loss of grace. Perhaps all of it. He might not hear her, so soft was her speech, and she immediately engaged him in her attention, more directly, actively listening as the tale wound on.
Thalion bowed his head, knowing that the Vampiress had not turned her attention away, "So it became that tiers were created in what was once the Summerland itself. Bitter quarrels began to break out between the sections of our society; discontent at their treatment, or others superiority over them and almost certainly the difference in ideology that became evident. Huge cracks appeared, as the earth when it shakes beneath ones feet, and gulfs became impassable between us all." almost a tear formed in the Elf's eyes as he imagined the anger and torment of his peaceful people, "Then some dared to question the Royal lines, claiming them unfit to lead and accusing them of transforming our people into nothing more than immortal Humans, with all their pettiness and faults. Perhaps it were true, yet the King and Queen had held stead through the rise and fall of many civilisations of man and Dwarf, their right as rulers and Light of the Eldar was unquestioned to the rest of us. But they could not be talked down from their standpoint and with much anguish, the Elven War of Succesion had begun." Here came a long pause, and one from which many would not expect him to continue.
Tenebrae was a consummate hunter of tales, and knew when one was finished, or its teller exhausted of subject or will to continue. That silence he entered now seemed simply a re-settling of things to their place within him, as a swan's back of feathers ruffled by a wind, or leaves blown up from below a Fall oak. So, she waited, mentally digesting what he'd said so far. Once human, she knew that race for it' impetuosity, especially since she'd had for several centuries the perspective of a vampire's longer span. But the dwarves... a younger race.. and the orcs? To her they were ancients, all. Questions started to tingle the tip of her tongue, though she did not sully Thalion's silence with them.
Thalion gathered his thoughts once more and with an audible sound of trepidation, he continued on, "It began, at first, with a separation into factions; the Sindarin, or Wood Elves, and the Quenya, the High Elves who were seen by many still to this day as being the sole arbiters of the Eldar's will. But with pockets of Quenya and Sindarin scattered over the Elven kingdom, it was impossible to maintain any semblance of order. Bickering and in-fighting between the two sides went unchecked and unstoppable over trivial things as land, property, rights and countless other things that seem meaningless for what it led to. then the first blow was struck by the Sindarin as they marched upon the capital, Leafglade, with an army twice that of any the Elves have ever held. They had rallied troops from over their territory, intent on making their demands heard through force, rather than our natural mediation. The cities guards were overwhelmed and surprised beyond measure. the battle was short lived and many simply fled, few losing their lives, yet the wound was felt so deeply and so strongly among the Quenya, that it was only a short time before we took up arms ourselves. This is also the reason that we call them betrayers and those without nobility. We were never willing or able to bring the disputes into open warfare as they had." he lulled a little and gave the merest sign of a shiver at the recollection, "The sindarin, being people of the forest and mostly hunters, had armed themselves with our bows, whilst we had the more commonplace swords and shields that we used to repel the encroaching armies of other races. They used tactics of stealth and cunning, whilst we had long ago forsaken these means, by manner of our engagements with Humans especially, defeating them upon their own terms. unfortunately, this was to their advantage, as the first counterattacks came and we would come to a completely deserted village or town, only to be ambushed or picked off by small groups. As the attacks became more frequent, eventually our own tactics changed to make it more difficult for them; thicker armour and broader shields, forcing them to engage us in gruesome, abhorrent battles. It was neighbour against neighbour, family pitched against each other, bloodlines and sacrament forgotten as the blood flowed ankle-deep in the streets and fields and forests. never had so much immortal life been wasted in our history, nor so much rage been felt by our kin, even toward other races. Countless battles were fought and lost to the Sindarin. Effortless numbers swelled their ranks by turncoats and those taking up arms who were otherwise contented to allow the rage to die out. Soon, we were forced into our fortresses, barricading ourselves inside and repelling wave after wave of assaults. My own hands were made to bludgeon my own kind into the afterlife and brutally tear into ranks of foes that I would have called my brothers not decades before. I know not to this day how many had died by my hand." another long pause ensued, but his face had calmed to a natural stillness, gathering once more his memories.
Of it all, of the whole terrible story that he told, what rang in her mind like a remnant knell was, "immortal life... wasted." Tene was not by nature the most empathic of creatures. Indeed, she possessed a heart at all only by sheer chance and an accident of Fate ironically -- always, with the irony -- exacerbated by the man whose name was echoed so closely by Thalion's own. But tragedy, this she understood, and loss. Grief. Her own, so immense as to crack the foundation of her very being, seemed suddenly trifling. She could not help, this time, but risk the sting of him spurning the hand that stretched, timidly, to cover his own. But whether it was for his comfort or hers was a matter she gave no thought at all.
Thalion steadies his nerves for another delve, deep inside himself, the faces and places all coming sharply back into focus from centuries ago, some not thought of since that time, "And so, both armies exhausted and the Kingdom well and truly shattered, a peace was brokered. The High Elves would stay in their cities, whilst the Wood Elves would take the woodland and grazelands. Neither side was truly happy with the final agreement, but we were all so relieved at the end to violence and being able to stay our weapons, that none of the details mattered. Many longed for the war to be forgotten altogether and a return made to the coexistence of both factions, but this was beyond ability now. Too much blood lay on too many hands." he gave another long sigh, but one that seemed pleased to not be recounting the violence of his people, "It came to an age of rebuilding and resettlement for all the Elves as we consolidated our losses and attempted to build upon what we had left. The Drow came now, in much greater numbers; those who had once been tortured beyond recognition by the Orcs were now joined by those who had been mutilated and horrified by the actions of our people, seeking safety under the earth. They ended up hating both sides with a furious passion, though they were never strong enough in the early times to ever have posed a threat. More centuries passed with Sindarin in the woodland and Quenya in the cities, until the High Elves departed for the Undying lands beyond the sea. Many to forget the brutality, some to seek a new life without borders or fear of Imperial races of Humans or dwarves. Very few of us remained and the Sindarin came to claim the abandoned cities. Only within the last few decades have some returned; a few for revenge, but many for the love of their unforgotten homelands. The Sindarin do not seem to mind, with their foothold long since established here, and a manner of agreeable, if not uncomfortable existence seems to prevail for the first time in three millennia." This seemed to be the end of his tale and the High Elf's eyes opened finally and he lay back a little, still somewhat deep in thought.
Tenebrae withdrew her hand, the gesture appearing quite useless to the Elf, and curled her fingers to themselves while she listened to the rest of the tale. So many questions... her mind reeled with them, the least of which concerned her own kind, as if she could claim to being wholly a part of the Vampiric, or indeed any, race. But her acquaintance was tired now, the tale flagging to its end. She would seek his eyes with her own, and speak only a truly genuine, "Thankyou."
Thalion 's composure remained unchanged for the most part, a fairly solemn look upon his windswept features. He turned to meet her gaze and found a deep, honest feeling within those dazzling green hues. "You are most welcome." he replied, although somewhat regretting the return of some thoughts that he had long since hidden within his past. He did not feel anger towards the Wood Elves any more, but certainly felt the sting of having his race torn asunder and forced to draw his own kindred blood.
Tenebrae had no real idea of what to say after that. Robbed, by the raw immensity of his story and feeling both, of snappy change-of-topic segues or manipulative little smirks to bring attention back her own way, she returned her eyes to the sea, to let him brush the sorrow and weight from the air between them or not, as was his will.
Thalion proceeds to stand, allowing the cool, soothing breeze to wash over him and dissipate the anguish which began to boil beneath the surface of his mind. A sense of normality was restored within himself as was the situation on the clifftop. The High Elf once again turns to the Vampiress, "I hope that has answered some of your questions, though I think that more may have opened themselves." he said, allowing the traces of a smile to play on his lips. "I must leave you in a moment, but I shall look forward to our next meeting with much anticipation." He waits for her reply, knowing that she is deep in her own thoughts.
Tenebrae said to Thalion, "Indeed, many more questions. If I might plague you with them, some time..." She smiled, sensing his mood clear in the wind. "Next time, then. Perhaps."
Thalion said to Tenebrae, "Of course, I feel it is necessary. It would be unfair for you to have so many unanswered questions after such a long sitting. Namaarie, mellonin." He replies as he begins to leave, "Fare thee well, my friend."
Friend. A formality, surely. All the same, she'd nod, wave at his departure, and continue her eternal, evening vigil.