#eleneya

The plans for the Eventides had been set in motion come time that Vel’adir and Dymere were called upon to meet their Matriarchal sister, unknowing at the time that they shared a bloodline. The hour would be around noon as the two came to the door that led into Elenaris’ study. Vel’adir’s immediate response to the unfamiliar man came in the form of a rather brooding chest and gaze that looked over him curiously as Cindel broke through the space between them to open the door.

“Lady Eventide will be a few moments, my Lords.” The little mage spoke in her sweetly soft tone before gesturing for them both to step inside the study.

The blonde knight furrowed his brow, quickly glancing from Cindel to Dymere in confusion. “Lords?” Once more his jade hues looked the man over, taking note of little details of not only his demeanor but his attire too. With a heavy sigh, he allowed himself to step in front to move through the entrance well ahead of the Spellbreaker, almost rudely so. “I cannot imagine what purpose my sister has for calling you here upon the same time as myself, though surely I suspect it will be worth the wait.”

While typically his form was fitted in the crimson and gold armor of their House, Vel’adir wore a garb that was much more comfortable for his time around the Manor. Leather boots covered the ankles of well woven breeches that held a clearly silken shirt tucked into their tops. “Perhaps we should exchange names before she arrives. Lord Vel’adir Eventide, I do welcome you to my home, while surprising enough…” He began before gesturing to a seat that sat opposite to where it was obvious the Lady of the House would be taking her place.

Compared to his brother, Dymere looked a ruffian, with half of his long black mane drawn into a lazy bun, the rest loose at his shoulders, and a untraditional beard to their elven kind. Two ritualistic crescent scars hooked from brow to high cheekbones. He was a big elf with wide shoulders that held more bulk than some; truly, he looked the type to be at the front lines for a reason. Despite the seasoned look about him, his eyes still held warmth and the notes of crow’s feet that crinkled with his amused smile which he graced the blonde with even after he was cut in front of. Water off a duck’s back.

His attire consisted of a dark leather tunic atop a white shirt, drawing out the color of his sun-kissed skin, a trait usually shared by workers or peasants often baking in the sun. At his brown leather belt, Dymere held a ritualistic knife kept safe at his hip with a pouch and a rolled vellum. Really, with most of his body deliberately covered, it was hard to see just exactly what he was. The most expensive piece of clothing he wore was perhaps his supple doeskin leather riding boots, which have been stained as dark as they could.

Dymere’s overall demeanor was a warm one. The scarring on his face clearly did not bother him, nor his brawny size as he grinned and stepped up to the other nobleman. “I knew it,” he claimed as he looked Vel’adir over, smiling like a cat who had gotten into the cream. “It is about time we met, my brother.” Within a moment, the big elf was embracing him, clearly not concerned about the rules of personal space. Warmth radiated from the beast as he stepped back to look him over once more. “Figured you’d be uglier, honestly.”

Vel’adir’s eyes widened. Slightly at first, having heard the term ‘brother’, and even further at the feel of the embrace from this unknown man. The knight tensed within Dymere’s arms a moment before lifting his hand to give a single pat to his shoulder before kindly pushing from him as the man also stepped backward.

“It is a pleasure to meet you however...I am not sure I heard you correctly. You said brother?” He asked, taking a step back from Dymere, once more looking over him. While the hair color did not exactly fit the normality of the Eventides, it was hard for Vel’adir to deny that his eyes and facial structure were spitting image of the rest of their family.

Dymere knew when he breached the comfort of another and didn’t seem at all upset at having been denied a hug. A toothy grin exposed a dimple in his cheek as he watched Vel’adir, settling his hands on his hips in an undeniable display of comfort and confidence more fitting of a scoundrel than a high ranking military man. At least, this is what he presented himself as in the privacy of his family’s home. Anyone who knew the Spellbreaker knew that he could be both in a blink. Try as this awful, war-torn world might, it would not break this big beast of an elf’s spirit.

“Your ears are working. This is good news,” he began with a chuckle. “I am your younger brother, Dymere. It’s a shame that it took so long for us to finally meet, but better late than never I say.”

Vel’adir’s lower lip seemed to fall apart from his upper as he fell loss for words. With the simple shake of his head and clearing of his throat, the knight gathered himself the best he could to offer any kind of response. “Younger brother, you say? Hm…”

It had been quite some time since she finally made the effort to sit at the desk within her chambers, placing the leather bound journal before her, and wrote.

The words that were etched onto the parchment were meant for no one really, except herself. But she wanted her children, should she ever have them, to look back and be able to read them just as she did with her father’s journals.

Some of his words gave her guidance, some made her simply smile, and some meant very little to her but all in all they were his and she took solace in that.

My my, where to begin…

She flips the page briefly to read the last entry she had wrote. Quite some time indeed…

I cannot begin to fathom how things have become the way they are. That is not to say they’re bad or negative, really, but just all over the place.

Things seemed to move full force ahead since my decisions were made. I have been vote in to sit as a Forum Chair, which has been a treat and difficulty all in itself. Now as that time approaches, I have been asked to sit on the Trinity Council for the Magistry. When did I ever deserve these honors?

I look forward to working with Lady Emberfrost, whom I’ve yet to fully meet, and Magister Van.

A great number of people I once stood beside have returned into my life. Tralestia being one of them.

Oh dear, that hot headed mage wants something from me and I cannot place my finger on it. Nonetheless she has granted me the right to the Apex vanguard, a price within itself. The Battalion has achieved much greatness in the previous years, and I plan to continue it with no different outcome.

I have placed a very capable general in the position of high commander. Surely Rionash had wished to take the place for himself, but he would be foolish to think I would ever do such a thing.

No, someone far more suitable for this has taken control, family by marriage from a union with yet another cousin of mine, Ele’neya. Lord Dathion Spellshatter will not disappoint, and in return he will receive the proper means that he seeks from me. This will be a profitable partnership for the pair of us.

Speaking of cousins, I have not seen Destavia in quite a while, despite my requesting a meeting with her and Master Shadowstar. Though, I suppose I cannot hold that against her. Not only has she been rather preoccupied with the Hospice, I have been spread thin as well. I hope she knows I would make the time for her whenever she needed.

Covaya and Alucieus have returned as well. After receiving word from Lady Sun’rael that the word of Apex had reached their ears in Pandaria, my heart fluttered with excitement that they would be within the city once more. She is such a dear friend. I welcome them both back into my life and into the Battalion as well, should they wish. Covaya has offered her experience as an Ambassador on two occasions now, and I except fully and graciously.

General Rhovin Thorne has also returned and join the ranks, bringing his companion Miss Whitewing. Lovely couple they make. I believe once Lord Spellshatter has the time to meet with them, he and General Thorne will work well together and lead the other to success.

Then there is likely the happiest and most problematic return of all.

Damon.

For so long did I think he’d never return to me, and for days following his arrival I was cold and distant toward him. Even if my kiss told him otherwise.

The first night he was here, I assigned him guest chambers within the Manor, he could not be seen walking throughout the city and sleeping in inns.

He visited me in my own chambers, against my will and command. Then again, Damon was never one to be commanded to do anything. His passion and eagerness surprised me. I felt his words as he spoke them, kneeling before me as he asked for me before taking what he felt belong to him all along. I did not fight him, I did not wish to. That moment lingers in my mind still this night as I look over my shoulder to him sleeping peacefully in my bed.