#aurielle

[healerstail]

So when will the thunder Cry out your name? I feel you around me Whenever it rains.

[lunasbians]

Mwah mwah mwah

[moonjellyfisho]

Uhhh Aurielle Lore ig ====== I've been here before.

It’s in the sea's memory. I'm sure of it. 

I recognize you.

There’s something in your eyes.

Something reminding me of love.

—

There is a cloaked figure. They stand in front of the temple, cracked and worn yet loved by the city. Glided gold accenting intricate designs carved into ancient marble as the lanterns scattered along the path glow with a warm hue of amber.

It’s inviting, yet intimidating.

The figure is slender, the fabric draped around their shoulders slowly billowing out in the breeze as a pale, gloved hand emerges to slowly bring out a parasol, unfolding with a flourish. They stand there, almost as if death themselves had come to claim the lives slumbering within the temple.

Or rather one.

Forgotten words are scrawled across the opening plate.

“Time is unforgiving, but time is what will drive humanity forward,”

The hood covering their face does not mask the tension in their posture. 

The cloak over their body does not hide the tremors of their body. 

And the parasol does not hide the raw emotion hidden in broken, blue eyes.

But this spirit does not seek to claim death, no, it seeks answers to a love they don't know, questions that can be asked, and comfort from the one person they’ve know would help them in this eternity of their never-ending life. 

Golden sandals emerge from the dark depths, glittering in golden light as they walk through the columns of marble, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallways. Their eyes look through portraits, statues, artifacts, stopping time to time to trail a hand over the sacred items.

Shouldn't they keep their hands to themselves? Should they even be here? Shouldn't they be protecting the sea?

They should.

But if they're allowed one trait of humanity, it’s greed.

And so they continue on, the smell of dewdrops and seasalt slowly permeating through the hall, marking her presence of a woman who should have never been here. Who should've continued slumbering in the sea, where the land should have never dove into.  

Who should've been dead all those years ago. 

The parasol flutters in her hands, spinning leisurely as the strands connecting to the underside, twirl around her, providing some sort of cover from the aching heat of lanterns.

One where humans would gladly walk by, unbothered by the minute heat. 

One where the creatures of the sea would’ve screamed, the warmth of the fire within burning and drying their skin.

Their steps take them through halls scattered with time, reeking of blood and stories with each crack and scratch on the walls. Their steps take them through history. Where times records both the future and the end. 

Now is nowhere to be found, the past was the future for some, and the future would soon be the past.

This is the way time is revered in this temple, where life slumbers and priests pray for the age of the golden era.

Silence blankets the world in a thick coat, neither oppressing or light as the sounds of her footsteps ring in the empty halls. The civilians have left for home, and the priests have returned to their abodes deep in the mountains. 

No one stops her, and the spirits of time whisper like how the sea always crashes against the rocks of the shore, where cliffs and steep ridges meet. 

But she is sure one soul is here, she wrote a letter made of Phaugosa’s sacred water. She made sure of it. 

Her feet step once, twice, light how seashells fall against the ocean floor. Then she stops, looking up from the ground to hear muttered whispers and prayers, the one person she expected to see kneeling on the ground. Her dress is spread out like silk, periwinkle and white unfurling like the crests of ocean waves.

“Dear %$#$%... bless your eternity and guide us on the journey the heirs fold down upon, for the golden era promised to us…” She waits, and the priest lowers her hands, head tilting up and turning around towards the Chrysos heir behind her.

“... Ms. Aurielle?” 

The figure stays still, before nodding.

“... Hello, Psyche. I apologize for the abrupt meeting. ”

The priest shakes her head, a light smile on her face as she stands up with an elegant flourish, and approaches, hands neatly folded in her lap.

“It’s quite alright, it’s nice to see you out into the land after the… incident. If you didn't mind me asking, what happened?”

The question is light, something anyone could answer with a heartbeat, but this is the Chrysos heir of the sea. Sound and words are not commonly heard deep below the waves, aside from the occasional click of echolocation.

However, were the priest not with the other for a long time, she would have grown impatient. But when she sees sea blue eyes darken in sorrow, the hand holding the parasol trembling, her amethyst eyes widen and she quicken tries to change the subject, perhaps comfort was in due.

“Hey, it’s alright,” her hands quickly come up to gently rub the other’s arms, watching as water glimmers in sapphire eyes. “It wasn't your fault and-”

However it wasn't about the “Incident”. 

“There was…. “

“Hm?”

“There was a… terravox….”

“Terravox?... Shouldn't he be slumbering?” Psyche tilts her head, gently guiding Aurielle to a bench.

“... No. I know what I felt.” She sighs, hands clenching down on the handle of the parasol before setting it down, the hood of her cloak pulled down revealing pearly white hair.

“It was… Terravox’s vessel.”

“A Chrysos Heir of Terravox? We haven't even retrieved his coreflame?”

Aurielle sighs, the fabric of her dress bunching up in her grip as she looks down, Psyche herself slowly pouring tea while looking at her companion.

“Do you believe me?”

she whispers.

Psyche is silent, before nodding.

“Always. You never had a reason to lie.”

Psyche slowly pushes the teacup towards Aurielle, the intricately carved porcelain glimmering. The scent of lavender wafts from the deep purple liquid.

“And…”

“The pain in your eyes rivals the pain you had all those years ago.”

Silence is laden with memory and sorrow, one only one knows, and the other waits.

A breath.

Then an exhale.

Then the story bleeds from the woman’s lips with water and blood, sea salt pressed into hidden wounds created deep beneath the surface of the sea.

She speaks the only way she knows how after all this time. She speaks in riddles, stories, metaphors, like how the sea reaches out in waves and crashes against the shore constantly, yet holds emotions in each and every wave.

There was a man.

A man with spiraling horns of gold, laden with a shine that rivaled even the pools of light up in the twilight fortress.

His hair was layered messily, yet with purpose, as if a general has used their blade to cut off memories they didn't need, and kept the ones that mattered.

His clothes were fabrics made of pearls and designs from the land he knew, a voice with the melodies of the sea yet he was from the land.

His body is armored in plates the same shade of the kremoean army. Eyes with tempest and conquer in them, a want and a need, determination and persistence.

A weight that lasted centuries and more beyond comprehension.

Eyes with sage green, like sunlight filtering through leaves. 

Hands unbearably warm but comforting, like sun warmed dirt and fields. 

A warrior of ages from both beyond the skies form the stars, and from the centuries spent on this earth. 

He called out with a melody, asking for the sea, asking for time, asking with hymns of a bygone life.

Words foreign and familiar, a  flick of the tongue and his spear plunged into the shore.

A woman beneath the sea awoke from eternity, that one sound enough to temper her anxiety and pain to emerge, fabrics dripping with sea water yet controlled as mist.

He watched, and she knelt by the sea. 

Waiting. Why did she emerge? There were surely better things to do than entertain another Chrysos heir. That was both Phainon’s and Aglaea's duty.

But she stayed, for her body did not compel her. 

The sea did.

It whispered promises and scattered phrases like a hand from mother, promising beauty, bountiful feasts, and prosperity.

A life she knew would doom her. A life she knew would dry out like how puddles do in the blazing sun.

And yet… She listened.

Her soul tugged on a life she had forgotten long ago. 

She told herself it was only because he himself had tugged on Phaugosa’s spiritual waters, he himself has an ability only the highest of priests should have. 

But it wasn't just that.

And the man?

His eyes widened, almost as if recognition had passed between his memories, a life he had mere scant images of leaking through the cracks to reveal a smiling woman with the same, deep sea blue eyes, laden with weight and memory. 

In that life he held her hand. In that life he had smiled with her. 

And she had left against her will.

“Hey… D̶͚͇̞̥̲͖̤̜͔͕͗̾͌͌͒̓ͨͭ̈́́̔ͫ̓̋ͥ̅͊̉̔̑͢͢͝͠͠͡ã̫͇̻̲͎̟͉̘̩͔͇̔̈̇͂͗́̈͘͠͡F̷̷̨̙̠̭͚̙̰̟̖͖̜̱̩̼́ͬ̏́͊̊̄̓̓̈̄̓̀̚̚͜͟͟͠ͅę̰͍̪̫̹̗̹̖͈͍́̓ͩ͊͘n̶̹̤̭̭͌̓͑͌ͨ͌̔͆ĝ̷̵̨͓̭̭̻̈́̿̑́́ͪͨͪͧͥ͟͢͡͞…. Promise me, after this war… we’ll be happy together, right?”

He thinks he said yes.

But is that life his?

Is this woman even her?

Something rustles inside, deep and aching, a memory untouched for ages.

And the man?

His conquest stops, just for a month. He kneels down, and asks for her name all over again, except in this life, it’s not on a battlefield stained with mara and abominations, a woman broken down from life and the abundance. 

No. It’s where the land and the sea meet again. 

And he falls in love all over again.

Perhaps he was aided by memories of a life, perhaps it was the manipulation of a soul that never truly left.

All he knew was that he told stories from beyond this world, metaphors, poems and sung songs. With each and everyone she eagerly nodded and laughed, something beautiful and painful all at the same time. 

All he did know was that he held her hands in his, a smile on his face. A reprieve from his journey as he promised her one thing. 

“I’ll take you to see the sky one day”

“Really?” the sea asked

“Of course.” the land said.

“Just wait for me… and my family.”

And the sea agreed, unknowing that she made the same promise to the same person in another life.

It was that day, pearls were found on the beach, a woman weeping as her beloved disappeared searching.

And it was that day the sea resolved to never sleep again, guarding for eternity. 

Then the story stops, for the sea still exists now, weeping pearls of gold as they trail down her cheeks silently. She does not know why she is crying.

Aurielle does not know why that man had made such an impact on her soul.

All she does know is that he is gone, and she misses her.

And Psyche? She sighs, pity and sorrow engraved in her eyes as she hugs the other, her gloved hand running soothing circles on her friend’s back. 

“I-I don't even know why I-I'm cryin- It was only a month and- It shouldn't even have been-”

“Shhh…”

The words are murmured like how time passes without a sound, weight and memory all into one sentence.

“But you loved him, didn't you?”

The tea on the table has gone cold as the moon rises to the highest peaks of the sky, filtering through gossamer curtains. Insects chirp about, even high up in the mountains.

It is silent.

The sea has stopped whispering.

Phaugosa…

Phaugosa have you cursed me?...

There is no answer. 

“Psyche…” The priest quickly looks up, her attention on the other as the other drops to her knees, hands balled into silky white skirts as pearls clink onto the floor, water turned into value.

Just like how the sea is known as a bountiful ocean. 

“Please. I beg. If there’s anything I have left in me, if there's anything you want..”

The words are not spoken, choked off from the throat with tears and sobs, one where even the woman who is crying doesn't know where it’s from.

Emotions lodging where they shouldn't, greed seeping through where wants have been hidden for years. 

It seems even centuries of isolation can not hide the humanity left in divinity.

For the divine live too.

Psyche is not cruel.

But time can not be brought back just like that.

Only memories can.

And so she kneels beside the broken divine, offering the only thing worth in this life of eternity and insanity that is bound to come.

“I'm sorry, but i can't.” She murmurs, pain and regret in her eyes as she brings the women closer, hands running through silky, water stained and tainted hair.

An attempt to soothe the underlying ache of what once was and what once would be. 

She wishes she could take away the time of pain, where everyone was happy and the world continued to shine, the sun of Kephale forever raying down upon the land.

She wishes she could erase the memory of pain. But time will always push forward.

Loving someone in a month seems to be impossible, it seems to be a fairytale.

But what if it wasn't just a month?

But rather from a life they both forgot? And so the sea weeps in the arms of time, tears flooding the room whole as whales sing in sorrow out beyond the cliffs. 

Waves that once were calm, rippling gently, now crash against the land, as if begging for it to come back. 

[t3nshe]

My D&D Character Aurielle and her mechanical dog Lancelot!

[nightinngales]

the whole shezarrine plot point is actually my absolute favorite headcanon/theory for the ldb and tes in general so i LOVE that you included that in your fic. i love the ideas and plots and characters that you come up with so i fully encourage you to keep writing your vision for the story! also the mira/auria thing is really cute, have you thought about writing a oneshot or smth from their perspective?

thank you so much! it’s also my favorite theory/hc as well clearly haha the vigilant mod just went really well with it so it allowed me to use it to my heart’s content. 

as for mirabelle/auria there is definitely a backstory there but i haven’t decided on how much it’ll be expanded on. there’s a possibility i could eventually do a side story showing their history from their pov pre-eres/the fic though. i just want to focus on making sure i tell all of the original plotlines i had planned for the story, so acts 8 & 9 come first in terms of writing. but i’ve definitely considered side stories, both seres and otherwise. we’ll see~ 

[pyromairon]

Day 22 of #inktoberelves : Sun

[middaystargazer]

@heimdallwatchesyou, I'm your Secret Santa (from @stellamore-secret-santa) wishing you a happy New Year!!

[vaesha-draecon]

Done for now, I'll draw the clothing and hair another day