dark and full of terrors.

a dependent blog by maric. for erethide. template by deathlyrph. discord is always open.

the sight of the woman had become an accustomed one, even if introductions hadn’t been in order previously. sarys was no stranger to the campsite, often fretting to and from whenever the daily meetings and conniving had ceased for the day. with her friends at the castle grounds, and family dwelling somewhere in thickness of the crowd, she hadn’t expected company — much less someone she knew to some degree.

“ don’t we all? “ a tired smile lifts its way to sarys’s face as she studies the woman before her, distantly acquainted but being the first of their up-close considerations. “ i have seen you here before, have i not? forgive me, my name is sarys. “ looking back towards the fire, she lifts a stick near to her feet and prods the coals. “ it’s the quite the bustle about tonight, i’d think there’d be a celebration… of sorts. “

“hela. and worry not, dear. i am hardly the sociable type. even if you had spoken to me, i’m not sure i would have been much for conversation. i am woefully out of practice. by choice, mostly.” she grins at that, reaching to grab a stick to lightly jostle the fire. stoke it, really.

“the bustle of humanity and elvenkind alike is something to behold. celebration or no, there will always tend to be bustling in some places.” hela yawned, sure she was making zero sense from her lack of sleep.

          As much as he enjoyed having a pretty lady in his arms, Viggo was respectful and let go of her as soon as he saw she was safe and out of the reach of those two drunk men. Clearly she wasn’t expecting this and didn’t say a word while she brushed off whatever there was on her dress. But he did gave her a quick glance from head to toes to see if she was alright.

          “It was no problem, my lady,” he smiled warmly and bowed his head a little. “It definitely would have been. Good thing I noticed in time.” If he hadn’t noticed and something bad would have happened, Viggo would have knocked them on their ass for hurting a lady. Even if it was an accident. “Actually, may I escort you to where you’re going? It would be safer that way.”

with all hela’s busybodying about, she hardly had time to recognize attractive persons. of course, she knew they were about; she just had other things to do. the man before her was ruining her streak of not being distracted. still, he had helped her. the least she could do was indulge in his company. 

“most definitely,” she responds, looking down and flushing appropriately. “of course, you may. i am headed for the circle. it seems my social capabilities have been drained for the evening.” she laughed appropriately, falling in step beside viggo.

where : duindaer bedrooms , Elysia castle , late evening !

who : feynhel duindaer ! ( @magimarked​ )

“ARE YOU GOING TO come to bed?” Astraea asked , ginger curls released from the braid that they had been in for more than half of the day. Elysia was pretty , yes , but she would be lying if she said it wasn’t slightly exhausting. Feynhel made it slightly better though , knowing well that he probably felt the same way. In almost two hundred years of living , Astraea had barely left her home country , and honestly she would be quite happy if it stayed that way. But when duty calls , one cannot ignore it. Stupid , Astraea thought it to be.

By the time evening had came , Astraea had realized that during the day , she had barely spent any time with her husband. Not an uncommon phenomenon , but she still felt a small twinge of guilt. Married for going on forty years , and sometimes Feynhel felt like a stranger to her. She knew well he wasn’t , though their relationship must’ve felt like an anomaly to the humans who had been married for the same amount of time as then.

“It’s quite late , you know,” She said , glancing up to the grandfather clock pressed up against the walls of their bedroom. Astraea sat at the small vanity that was in the room as well , gently combing through her curls to tame them enough so they wouldn’t be a menace when they went to bed. “I’m not sure I’ve seen you rest a minute since we’ve gotten here.”

feynhel looked up at her, eyes tired from a long day. he smiled, however faint, at her form. she had the most beautiful hair, and he often found himself playing with it absently in the mornings where he didn’t have to run about all day.

still, he stood, and he made his way to her vanity, already dressed for bed but simply indulging in a bit of late night work. he came up behind her and kissed the top of her head. taking the brush she held, he began to gently comb her hair for her.

“rest is for everyone else. i don’t think i’ve a restful bone in my body.”

( daniel henney, cis man, he/him ) Did you hear? [ FEYNHEL DUINDAER ] is in town. A [ ELF ], I hear that they’re the [ LORD OF HOUSE DUINDAER OF AERTYS ], rather impressive considering they’re [ TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SIX ] years old. Their friends say that they’re pretty [ LOYAL ], but I’ve heard rumors that they’re also [ STOIC ]. It might just be me, but they remind me of [ eyes that hold centuries, affectionate kisses placed on a lover’s freckled shoulder, tailored robes that still do not feel right ]. I wonder what side they’ll choose in the upcoming conflict.

( mark addy, demi man, he/him ) Did you hear? [ ROLAND FENNEC ] is in town. A [ HUMAN ], I hear that they’re the [ GUILDMASTER OF THE MERCHANT’S GUILD ], rather impressive considering they’re [ FORTY-EIGHT ] years old. Their friends say that they’re pretty [ ADVENTUROUS ], but I’ve heard rumors that they’re also [ TROUBLESOME ]. It might just be me, but they remind me of [ memories at the bottom of a crystal glass of brandy, hands filled with golden coins, and eyes tinged with regret ]. I wonder what side they’ll choose in the upcoming conflict.

“oz, darling. we have to stop meeting like this.” the mage smiled and went to kiss oz’s cheek. patting their back, helara moves around to look at the body nearby. “clean kill. this is perfect.” helara uses magic to conceal the body before floating it behind her.

where; inner campgrounds - elysia

when; nighttime

who; anyone

on a night such as this, the moon shone high across the landscape, illuminating the various pitched tents and bonfires that bared the colors of wayward souls. in the back of sarys’s mind, it seemed something out of a fairytale — perhaps it was habit that propelled her to come here so late at night, accustomed to the sparing visits that dotted her conscious. family, as well as fame, dwelled in these lands; though the castle hung like a shadow in the distance ( no doubt where the other nobility would be ), it provided little comfort to the elven lady. though her body and mind belonged to the stone passages, her heart called home to these folk who welcomed the misfits and outcasts to heart. it did not matter to sarys what their intentions might be — tonight, of all nights, was that of celebration, and seldom would the common people ever allow themselves to be hindered from it.

with her face to the fire, sarys sits quietly, admiring the amble chatter that surrounded the various tents. she knew not where her sibling might be ( probably lost to some drinking game with one of their mates ), but that fact didn’t matter to her — right now, in her feigned silence, she merely basked in the chill of the night.

though her thoughts drift towards home — wherever that might be considered — an approaching figure earns the quip of her attention. sharp eyes flick to her guest, studying their form for any sense of familiarity; and when her studies are done, she offers a slight tilt of a smile and beckons towards the log opposite her. “ feel free to sit, if you’d like. “

looking at helara, you might think her cruel. she had a sort of angular shape to her face, a face that would unsettle you if you looked long enough. but the mage still had some kindness to her, a remnant of her days as a girl, healing people in a village with the blood of her own body. they hadn’t known, and her father had pressured her into a lot of it. but, she had helped and felt good helping, so she did it still. minus the blood. she practiced this in secret.

still, she could heal those in need, and there were plenty in need, even in elysia. in the campgrounds, she healed and helped those suffering from small or large ailments. and after a long night of this, she was exhausted.

sitting at the campfire, she wiped her sweat covered brow and nodded her head.

where : anywhere with a fire place in the elysia castle !

who : anyone !

AS A FIRE MAGE , it wasn’t surprising that Azariah had taken to having a fascination with it , ever since she was a babe. She had been kissed by fire since birth , that’s what her father would say. Her red hair was evidence enough , and his suspicions were only confirmed when she started showing a gift for fire magic. The warmth of it never bothered her , even now , as she sat by a fire place with her legs tucked underneath her , she enjoyed it despite the warm weather that was provided during the day and night. 

Though her whole attention was not placed solely on this fire , though. Ria sat with her legs tucked under her , a book in her hands. Her hair was loose , brought around to one side of her as she red , humming to keep her focus on it. She was so focused on the book in fact , that she had hardly noticed the door opening. Only the creak of the door reveled the others presence , and that caused the girl to jump. “Oh my,” She said , looking over her shoulder. “Forgive me , I didn’t think anybody would come in here.” Azariah closed the book , getting herself up off the ground.

“looking for a warm place,” helara had said. she was well known for her walks and pensive stares. “do you mind if i steal a bit of fire from you?” she asks, stepping into the room and closer to the flames. they were beautiful, dancing across the wooden logs slowly being burned to charcoal. 

helara had always been fascinated with the cycle of life and death. fire seemed to mirror that cycle. if only a bit.

𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔲𝔰 — open ; 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 — tavern in the heart of Elysia ; 𝔗𝔦𝔪𝔢 — late evening .

          Usually after a long and particularly hard day Viggo found himself either at a tavern downing ale or between a pair of legs. This time it was the first option. He thought it would be a quiet evening, but, oh, how wrong he was when, finishing his third ale, he witnessed a drunken fight between two men, who could barely stand on their feet, their profanities thrown at each other were slurred and fists nearly missed their targets. It was a fun sight to see, especially when they stumbled outside and continued it there. Viggo wasn’t the only one intersted in it, no. Half of the tavern followed them outside to watch. There was a thought, maybe he should stop them? But no. This was too entertaining.

          At the corner of his eye he noticed someone about to walk by the men. He didn’t think much of it, but when the men stumbled in their direction and it looked like the passerby didn’t pay attention, it sobered Viggo up a bit. “Hey! Be careful!” He quickly jumped forward and, wrapping his arms around them, he pulled them away while stepping between the innocent soul and the fighting men, shielding the person with his body.

helara was many things. selfless was not one of them. she strode through the tavern, tired of the baudy atmosphere she had forced herself to exist in. she was hoping to get a drunkard to part with a few vials of blood while he slept. it was the easiest way to get it without attracting too much attention. still, it was not her night, and so, she decided to leave.

color her surprised when she was grabbed and spirited away. she looked up and noticed the fight she had been about to walk into, and her heart pounded like it would normally in a situation like this. she was far too stunned to speak. so, she gathered herself, stepping back just a bit and brushing invisible dirt or mess off of her dress. 

( jennie jacques, cis woman, she/her ) i’d be careful, that’s [ HELARA ], they’re a [ BLOOD ] mage. at [ THIRTY ] years old, they specialize in [ HEALING ]. but i also hear they have the ability of [ BLOOD SACRIFICE ], rather remarkable for a [ HUMAN ]. as a [ SENIOR ENCHANTER ], they’re known for being [ WISE ], if not a little [ SELF ASSURED ]. it might just be me, but they remind me of [ eyes devoid of feeling, hands shaking over a bowl of crimson, gritted teeth in defiance, and full lips that do not scream ]. i wonder what side they’ll choose in the upcoming conflict.