Art by myself. (looking for the artist I used the pose from <3)
((OOC I can now share this art, the guild had already seen it but I didn’t give away too much about it when I finished it. of course this is a bit of a more future based piece as Vivilynn is not even a year old yet. Dizarak does his best to be a dad worth the little ones affection. The three of us have worked really hard on headcanons and getting this plot going and now to have Vivilynn played by my IRL partner this is just one huge fun RP adventure <3))
He could still hear the echoing of his shoes against marble floors as if he were wandering those halls in their prime despite the leaves beneath his leather boots as he padded towards the ruins of his former home. Vines and trees slowly reclaimed the broken and tattered remains of the once great Manor. Trailing up and around the structure in a choking embrace as if sapping the remaining memories from its very walls.
Carefully he stepped through the naked door-frame, its thick aged wooden door long since vanished from its place guarding the once glittering world behind it. The grand staircase stretched before him, a rotting railing barely recognizable in some spots, cascaded on either side of the crumbling steps.
As he wandered through once vibrant halls, the Ren’dorei’s mind wandered freely with the shadows that danced in memories light about him.
With ease he navigated the dilapidated walkways and entryways filled with rubble. Turning as he came to a hallway on his left and padding down the corridor his eyes trained on a large moth eaten curtain. Its dulled violet hues interrupted with holes and balding patches across its face giving only glimpses of its once grand splendor.
Hesitant hands reached forward, grasping the edges of the material, pausing to take a deep breath. A firm tug brought the cloth to settle on the floor in a cloud of dust and disturbed cobwebs at his feet. The strings in his heart tightened, almost as if the faces staring back at him had hold, squeezing in desperation for freedom.
A soft sob echoed through the hall, teeth gritted to bar another from escaping as ice blue and void gazed up at the portrait abandoned for far too long.
His own face peering back seemed unfamiliar and strange, deep red hair painted to frame his face as he stood with folded hands resting on his mother’s chair arm. The opposite side of the piece portrayed the youthful and golden eyed face of his sister, her deep green dress pooling on the floor around her as she too stood framing their mother.
Viladori’s vibrant gold eyes peered down at him.
“Mother....” he walked toward the portrait, reaching up to gently run his fingers along the painted hem of her skirt as tears stung his eyes. He glanced above her face to nod at the image of his father.
the journey had afforded him the chance to think of what words would give his heart the peace it needed, the thoughts vanishing as soon as he laid eyes on the once blessed image of his family.
“I wish you both were here....” he muttered, hanging his head and pinching his eyes shut, “And on behalf of my mate...I am sorry that you are not. ”
A shaky breath fluttered from his lips as he struggled to continue, flashes of emotion welling up as his mind recalled his grieving.
“I...I hope you can forgive my heart. For everything. For choosing to live the way I have.” lifting his face to gaze at the permanently captured faces of his parents he continued, “for falling to void....for nearly destroying Zaravala...”
His hand slid from the hem to grip weakly at the frame as he buried his face in his elbow, muffling what sobs he could.
“I must ask for your blessing...”
The tears flowed freely, their weight eventually bringing him to tired knees in the dust and worn fabric.
“So please forgive me, mother.”
He took a deep breath, collecting himself to quell the shaking in his voice.
“But most of all guide me. Show me how to be half the parent you and Baba were. She needs us and now more than ever....I need you...both of you.”
