I hold no thought that this letter will ever reach your hands. Why then do I set stylus to parchment? The simple act gives me the chance to remain occupied while I wait.
I have no idea how many of my secrets will be uncovered and spread around, nor even if the truth will be told of Artifice or if yet more lies will be created to smear my deeds. Should my shadowy friends outlive me they have instructions to divide the worldly goods I possess. You are to be included in this division.
I called you friend, and thought you closer to me than any others I had ever had, Lymorra included. Why? Because you could never look upon me with the judgement of knowing my nature as she did. You claimed a small corner of my blackened and malice filled heart, and you did it the day I watched you selflessly assist the norn I dispatched with my claws. Dandenia is not my name, nor my life. She is merely a persona I would wear like any other piece of clothing. She meant no more to me than Putinia, or Valley Lily or Scuttlebutt Sheila or any of the other dozens.
The torment that the human and I heaped upon you began harmless enough. It was a test, and I thought you callous and as unthinking as any of the other delusional Seraph, but that small act opened my hate-filled heart a crack, large enough for you to crawl inside and remind me. You reminded me that I may be Artifice, but Artifice was not where I began.
They are coming for me now. Live your life well, friend. Live it better than I lived mine,
MORE! Tell me more! Did they weep? Did they bellow and scream in rage and anger? Tell me my shadowy friends. TELL ME! I must know. I must hear it all. Leave no minute detail out from your tale. My sap flows stronger from hearing of that hated blooms anguish!
Since the destruction of my Court, yes it is MY Court now. Don't interrupt me! Phenelore's dead and Alaeri rides the winds somewhere hidden. Cowardly Ebon Knight! She's scurried off with her spider Caelinth... but since the destruction of my Court with only a handful of Swarms left under my command I have felt ill at ease, unsure, drifting listlessly on a sea of possibilities.
But now. NOW! I have my purpose again. HATED DREAMER! You dared to make my choices for me, you dared speak your soft words against my fury!
DIRTY VALIANT!! You already knew the taste of lies. Did their sweetness finally overcome your tongue? Or did you learn as I did? Did you learn to savor that sweetness, to crave it, to feast on every syllable you uttered?
Lying wasn't your worst sin, fair Lymorra. Oh noooo. No, your sin reeks of Pride and Lust. You thought to place yourself between prey and predator, in a vain attempt to protect me. HA HA! PROTECT! HA! ME! HA HA! You didn't fear for me. You feared for your precious Raghnailts. You feared that her hatred of me would prove once and for all the strength of Nightmare.
Despite your delicious lies, despite your hubris, despite your faith and adherence to the disgusting words of Ventari the traitorous... despite all of that... your efforts will come to nothing. Rags may believe she is predator, but in the wilds every predator becomes prey to another.
I wish we could have sat and enjoyed the view together, Lymorra. Huddled together, hidden from the prying eyes of the world, in each others arms as we shared our secret hearts, the fears that drove us onward. It would have been as it was before... If you had sat with me to enjoy the ruins of your hovel as it was engulfed in the inferno I started with my own claws, I may have forgiven you your sin.
No. I know I would have. I would have kissed the tears you weeped for your hard labor away, and reminded you how it has always been you that kept Artifice alive.
You were my rock. When the light was caught by the unyielding forces around me, as the detritus swirled seeking to drag me to their crushing center, as each alias sought to claim my life as their own, each persona wishing to engulf me within them, as all that I am ripped from deep inside me I had but to turn and wrap my claws around the connection between us; And I was Artifice once more.
I danced on the smoldering ashes. The scent from your enterprising hands consumed my every sense. I long to know if the Grove will smell as appetizing when your Mother lies battered, broken, sap running like rivers, foliage smoking and roots ripped from their moorings. Until that day, I must find contentment in this, my new endeavor; Everything, EVERYTHING you treasure, everything you covet, everything you have ever loved will be added to the steaming wreckage of your former humble abode.
Begone my shadow friends. BEGONE! I must remain Artifice...
Come closer. Stare at me from the shadow cast by my leg as I dangle my feet over the edge of this cliff. There. It is almost as if I could stroke one of your eyes, absently, with the tip of my claw. If you had voice, would you purr? Would you croon? What pleasurable sound would you make, I wonder? Perhaps you would echo my favorite sound, mimicking the screams of my many victims. I could see myself smiling at you, if you did.
There is no smile on my lips, companion. I recognized an attraction in the features of my Squire. It has been so long I can not recall when it last occurred. But was it attraction even then? Ah, a change in your stare. You can communicate. It has been my failure to interpret.
He reminds me of Eoghan, friend. My squire! Keep up with the conversation! Sienko's form must be The Pale Tree's revenge upon me. Will this be my torment? The moment that I have forgotten those few brief and fleeting moments of confusion, where I think I felt a longing for Eoghan in my breast, She will cause yet another to cross my path and refresh the memory. It is the only answer that makes sense to me.
Look. The sun sets here in Kryta. If you stare hard enough, you could almost say you see the sparkling of the spires of Divinity's Reach. A Dreamer would weep at the beauty. I have no such tears to shed for it. Those small round wet balls of weakness are reserved for my identities, to twist the empathy and compassion of the easily persuaded.
A squeeze of my hand? Oh. It is you. Hello my shadowy minion. I am aware. The last time we sat together like this was while I fled the hunters of that guild I destroyed. What was their name again? It doesn't matter. I earned Artifice because of them. What did we speak of back then? Oh yes. The mirror and my flawed face. No. Toss that accursed thing over the cliff. I do not wish to revisit that memory right now.... but now I am.
The two Wardens lay sleeping on the road back to the Grove. I bled from the wound on my face, the thick sap staining my cheek with its hot moisture. I stumbled around in shock, but whether it was the pain of the blow or the fact I was now free I can not say. Until that hour, I had been unaware that I was followed, watched, stalked like prey. Was I assaulted bodily? Or did we engage in combat?
It matters little. I was bound, gagged, trussed and carried off by them. My real siblings; Dame Kerstas of Fiery Shadows and her squire, Valisent. To the Arbor Court they took me. Once I was freed of my bonds, in the bramblethorn cage, I begged. I pleaded to every ear that came within range. TEACH ME!! I cried out. I AM NO DREAMER! I chanted until my throat was raw.
tialyunda replied to your post “In other news, my characters are losers and need more friends....”
I would love to hang out with you. I can give you Fancy Owl as a personal reference ^.^
That would be fun - I would love to! :D Fancy Owl, though? GOSH I just HATE that guy. I'm kidding. :P He's actually the person I RP with the most, and we talk out of game quite a bit. But thank you a bunch! ^^
myrrind replied to your post “In other news, my characters are losers and need more friends....”
-snuffs at- Angel & Rory good ppl's. Not certain about doing on a regular basis. However, is interested. Are you?
Yes! That would be great! I saw Myrrind at one of the refugee camps, but I never got the chance to say anything. We should definitely RP!
thefreelanceangel replied to your post “In other news, my characters are losers and need more friends....”
What do you think I'm doing to you with this Tav thing? :D You're gonna end up RPing' with Rory and I. <3
I don't think I would consider Tav a friend, lol. But I am having a whole lot of fun with it, thank you again! I look forward to RPing with Rorshak, too! ^^
STOP TALKING! Stop. Just stop. Too many voices at once. All of you are special to me. You serve me willingly once I liberated you from your eternal captivity. You are all dear to me, my shadowy friends. You are the hands that reach further than I am able.
It is too bad you are not telepathic. I have found that speaking as much as I have lately is tedious. My throat and mouth feel very raw. Why am I so reminiscent? Are the old doubts creeping back into my thoughts again? They shouldn’t. I am free. No more will I wear the shackles of ignorance.
Yes. You’re right. I have removed my mask. I wanted to look at my face in this mirror. My imperfect face. See these grooves right here, just under my eye? That is how my wound healed. I stare at the price I paid to finally escape. As I look first at one side of my face and then the other, it is strange to think that I was once attractive; To know that my smile made my features move and adjust and that there were sylvari males whose sappy blood quickened at the sight of that smile.
No no. Eoghan was just one male.There were others who openly competed for a chance to woo. I never gave them a moment of encouragement, but their naive natures made them believe. I laugh when I think about it, my friends. They allowed themselves to become so enamored, so enthralled and entangled in my beauty that they would duel. Little did they realize that it was their seeping wounds I longed for most.
But those days are behind me. Now I bear the marks of a tainted woman, scarred in face and soul. How did this come to be again? Oh. Yes. I remember now!
Eoghan was dead. His corpse left to decay in my makeshift bower. I wandered the forest. Hunger caused me to forage for food. Day by day, my meandering took me further north. I knew there were roads, but I avoided them during the day, and prowled them at night. I had no direction and no desire to go anywhere until I overheard a conversation speaking of the bounties to be found in the human lands. This is what I had been searching.
I took to the roads. My steps had purpose now. I intended to indulge myself in Kryta. I got lost along the way. It was fortunate that there were several way stations and smaller encampments I could spread my lies as I innocently asked directions. Ignorantly, the other races patiently treated me as they did other sylvari; as an oblivious child.Their smug faces and indulgent voices begged for my claws, but I withheld my fury.
Yes, in some ways I was oblivious and my folly will ever be written on my once pretty visage. The border between Sylvari lands and Kryta was guarded by a single checkpoint. The hills and mountains created a natural obstacle, funneling all travelers towards the Lionguard and Wardens who manned the station. Eoghan’s body had been found, and I was wanted for questioning. Their hardened bark armor reflected the sun hotly into my eyes, keeping me from seeing properly. They did not threaten physical violence but the stern looks spoke of no compromise in their intentions.
To the Grove they intended to return me, placing me within their cells to make me talk of him, my first kill. I had already sworn I would never step foot in their again, never again allow Mother’s eyes to follow my movements from on high. As they led me away, I began to plead with them. False fear rolled off my tongue so naturally, that one of the Wardens turned to look at me with pity. Savagely I struck out, aiming my claws for his eyes and a scuffle ensued.
The altercation was brief. In the end, both of my would be captors slept carelessly on the soil and my beauty was forever sullied. It was the toxin from within me that made them slumber, a wonderful side effect.
Enough. I will dwell on this no more. We have work to do, my ever present cronies. I have another life to crush.
You, my nearly departed confidant, are just one more face to me. Another life I have enjoyed crushing out, and you won’t be the last one either. There have been so many of “you” I’ve almost lost count. When did it start? This beautiful desire to stare as the brightness within you fades into night? Hmmm…
I spoke to you of my personal torment. The desire to be ‘good’, the constant nagging need for the approval of others, the pain of constant rejection compared to the tranquility of being who and what I really am. I watched the other sylvari. I listened to their conversations. I absorbed their sickening curiosity and droning questions to anyone who would listen. They didn’t want to know about the world. They wanted to be spoon fed it. I could barely tolerate it, and most nights when I would prepare myself for sleep, I would retch the contents of my stomach out in whatever bush was nearest.
Staring at the mess I made, knowing that I defiled the artistry of the Grove in a small fashion comforted me. I had to regurgitate the morality foisted upon me to survive. That virtue was a disease that had to be purged, and one night as i drifted towards slumber I discovered how I could finally be free.
You remember me mentioning that one cyclemate, don’t you? Oh. Right. You can’t answer. You’re almost gone. No matter. My freedom was earned on the soil that soaked up the last of his sap. It crept so slowly across the grass as it drained from his punctured throat.
His name was Eoghan, and he was handsome. Tall. So very tall that my eyes could barely see his chin, and to brush my lips against his I would have to pull him down to me. His shoulders were so very broad and the strength of his arms… Even now, I shudder in delight. The memories of the pleasure of his embrace stir something within me. But I never gave myself to him. Oh no. I did not let him defile my body.
Eoghan’s seduction was slow and luscious. I would sweetly whisper my pain, drawing him ever closer to the trap I set for him. Like a sparkfly, he flapped his wings towards the conflagaration of my seething inferno of hate. Boldly, with a boastful and prideful chest inflated, Eoghan would declare his feelings towards me, nearly shouting his promises of protection and love, swearing upon the roots of Mother that I would not fall into despair. Oh how wrong he was.
I had already grown my claws. My sharp marvelous claws. It was a conscious effort to make them out of my own bark and tissue, but I waved off Eoghan’s concern with slanderous lies. Deep into the forest of Caledon I tempted him, with promises of ecstasy and heights of passion that would cause Mother to blush. Unclothed we held each other, the rising heat from our bodies causing the air around us to waver. It was there that I tore his throat out. His eyes widened in fear and shock, and I felt a wave of satisfaction roll through me. It was a mind blowing orgasm of murder.
It did not take long for him to expire. I gleefully observed as the brightness within him quickly went out, feeding the shadows and darkness I craved. I stood, dressed myself and left his corpse there. Not once did I think about looking over my shoulder at it.
'Why?' Let's look at that, shall we? I told you of my hour of Awakening, but let me continue from there. See, Luminary Kahedins took all of us out into the Grove at large. He pointed upwards for us to observe the majestic beauty of the Pale Tree in all her glory. The luminescence that had been woven into the very fabric of the Grove was already fully lit, and even I had to catch my breath at its beauty.
Oh yes. Don’t get me wrong. I am very capable of appreciating beautiful things. That’s why my eye fell on you. But to continue: Kahedins started to explain that we must each find our way in the world. Talking about the importance of the Dream to future generations of Sylvari, and how we must adhere to the tenets taught by the Ventari Tablets. My stomach lurched. I already felt as if what I was seeing and feeling were surreal and out of touch with reality, but his words struck a chord deep within me. It was a loud warning bell, telling me to run away and not listen any further. But I ignored that warning.
Kahedins selected a handful of us, but he made it a point to walk up to me. His voice grated on my nerves as he gave me that condescending smile of his, asking if I would like to meet the Pale Tree herself, but he called her Mother. REVOLTING! Even now I wish I had shoved my fingers into his eyes, just to feel them disintegrate and the sap from inside those sockets cover my fingers. Ignorantly I agreed.
We traveled upwards to a wide chamber near the very top of the Pale Tree, and there Mother shone. Yes, i do mean there was a blinding brightness about her. I couldn’t look directly at her, so full of warm and light and goodness and peace! We didn’t see her smile, we felt it. It wrapped around you like the warmest blanket on the coldest night you can imagine. That smile made you feel loved and wanted and necessary to Tyria. I don’t ever want to see that smile of Her’s again.
Hey. Pay attention. No need to pass out. There. Much better. What I was about to say was that I speak to you now with the clarity of hindsight. The Pale Tree talked to each of us individually but to me she spoke the most. She tried to explain that the darkness within me was a necessary part of who I am, that I had an important role to play though I had not been called to a Wyld Hunt. And I felt my resolve shatter. Doubt clouded my mind and I entertained the notion that perhaps the Tablets *WERE* the correct way of living as a Sylvari.
This began weeks of personal torment. I tried to ignore my thoughts, align myself with the beauty of the Grove and not see the darkness and decay in every shadow. Oh, I found others that I spoke with, pleaded with them to help me understand. Sylvari like Lymorra andEidolen But the more I fought, the louder the shadows became. Whispering. Taunting. Driving me ever onward to the real Truth!
It’s all a LIE! HAHAHAHAHHAHA! Don’t you get it? EVERYTHING! It’s all a lie. A cleverly disguised lie to show us how worthless our lives really are! I know. I saw the Truth.
My moment of clarity came when I ended his life. You remember, I told you about my cyclemate that I murdered. Maybe I’ll tell you all about that next time we talk. Me? I’m done talking. I have more parts of you I want to remove.
When I woke up, it was during what we call the cycle of Dusk. Luminary Kahedins is responsible for us. However, I was very late in the cycle. So late that Kahedins was about to take all of my cycle mates out of the gathering area to let Luminary Malomedies begin to collect the Nightblooms.
My pod opened and I opened my eyes. I was confused, disoriented, off balance. What was I being shown now? What was this part of the Dream supposed to teach me? I heard their chattering floating up to me. Other sylvari voices and the happiness and curiosity that filled those disgusting sounds sickened me. I got out of my pod and climbed down the Pale Tree.
Revolting. All of the duskblooms hovered around Kahedins like sparkflies. He did his best to speak calmly to them, to reassure them, to answer their incessant questions. He turned his head to look at me. He even gave me a patronizing smile, as if he could look directly into my heart and knew my secrets. He motioned me over, “Join us sprout. You are the last of today’s blooms to Awaken. Come over and meet your cyclemates.”
I didn’t want to meet them. I didn’t want to know them. My insides were lurching and twisting and knotting up. If I could have retched, I would have. They were too surreal. This couldn’t be the world I was forced to survive in. This was another part of the Dream. It had to be, my thoughts screamed at me.
I must have had a look on my face. Maybe, I was frowning. I don’t know. All I do know is that a few moments later I spoke my first words with this mouth. The very one you kissed so gently as I sedated you. One of my cyclemates, a male, came over to me. He smiled at me, very much like Kahedins did. The flash of his white-bark teeth caught my eye. He reached out his hand and touched the crook of my neck, just where it joins my shoulder.
That memory. Oh, how I have played and replayed that delicious moment. His fingers curled around behind my head, and he looked directly into my eyes. Was it tenderness there? Care? Concern? It doesn’t matter. He had touched me, and even the soothing murmurs he offered, the soft reassurance that I was okay did nothing to quiet the roaring disgust I felt. No thought. No decision, Just action. I grabbed him by the throat and said, “Don’t touch me again.” I glared angrily at him, and for the first time I got to see fear reflected in another’s eyes. It thrilled me.
A gasp of surprise from my cyclemates. Violence. This was their first witnessed act of violence. They fell silent and I could taste the quiet around us. My fingers flexed on his throat and I thought to myself, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice if I could puncture his throat with just my fingertips?’ That’s why I eventually grew these. My wonderful claws.
Luminary Kahedins cleared his throat loudly and calmly told me to release my cyclemate. So I did. Begrudgingly. Reluctantly. He didn’t scold me, but it seemed like there was a sadness as he turned to the other duskblooms. He led us out of the gathering area and out into the Grove at large.
That male? The one who touched me? He has the pleasure of being my first murder. You. You get the pleasure of being my latest, but not yet. Oh no. I have a curiosity about you humans. I wonder if you’re able to regrow your limbs like we do.
