Sehlanna's Biography and Journals

[Valkyrie]

"Never again."

Starlight twinkled magestically in the night sky, promising vastness and beauty above. Below, crickets chip and wind rustles, forest and grassy plain are settled into tranquility, and only a few rocking lanterns mark travellers' passing. Not but peace reigned, as far as the eye can see. Any Human eye.

But in a keep window, a Sun Elfmaiden looked out over that same night, those stars that had callously pierced through smoke and villages aflame in Gullykin, Beregost, and Cormanthor shone again this night. Of all the vast, infinite wonders in the heavens above, none lifted a finger to assuage those agonized wails of the dying. Soldiers pass along with lanterns, pitifully reliant for aid in revealing the next danger which lurks out of sight. To an Elven eye all the strife blurred together, tonight's peace is almost lost in a blink amidst war.

Those words escaped her lips once more in Elven, "Never again."

Five Wars, Six, counting the Seven Citadels' War, had seen the Elven people torn apart. Not weeks ago, Comiira Luthien's word against Doron Amar had nearly turned En Dharasha Everae on it. It was madness. It was supposed to be a tragedy no longer possible in modern day. But Tel'Quessir can still turn on each other.

Moonlight shone past her golden face, then converged on tip of her brush, sweeping it then over a portal to Miyertiar, a painting so very real it brought her to tears to see that beauty past. Those brown-haired, black haired children played alongside pale skinned and cerulean haired in a city grown from the earth in arcane splendor. And it will never live again, stolen by the Second Crown War, in smoke, fire and those same horrible wails.

One brush stroke, another, and that beauty came more to life before her eyes. Every detail in that painting shone with height, width, and depth - real enough to sight vivid enough to see the wings of a fly resting atop her bedpost. But those sights, those screams still haunt, and she could not quiet them.

Another glance beyond towards the Lion's Way, where Celestial and Baalor had come en masse after a stone, and she knew this world was under an unseen influence every day. Every Paladin's heroic deed was empowered by a god's virtue. All those tragic wrongs were whispered to craven ears day by day,
"What whispers to our ears?"

Dread too heavy to let words escape her throat asked: What whispered to Luthien's ear? Even experienced, patient, and composed as Tel'Quessir are, they were not above those old mistakes now. Diana, Windwhisper, and Suiadan had proven that, consorting with dark powers forbidden since the Crown Wars. Fallen and godless, Windwhisper had spirited from sight like an Elfmaiden blessed. They prove the Elves still hear that madness. But whose?

A soft clatter and she sets the brush away, and she stepped downn Candlekeep's halls to the library in search of Reader Za'athan, and books of the Planes. Wincing softly to her cheeks, pained Elven cries still rang in her ears, even of those she had to slay. "Never again." Whatever terror bade these centuries of madness would be found, and she would stop it. Someone had to.

[Valkyrie]

Later that night an Elfmaiden sought after a weathered young man in the woods, both of their cloaks flying the Forest Queen's heraldy. She trails an empty honeyleather sack behind her, but drags it as if holding the weight of Toril inside. Every step slow, almost graceless. Her eyes distant and almost empty, looking in his all too Human eyes for what light she lost that day.

(Elven) "So many gone."

She says not another word, just lays against fellow Ranger's chest and closes her eyes. Weeping out tears long held that day, letting the weight of decades wash away. In his strong arms she's safe from the world. When eyes close, all but his reassuring scent disappears. The top of her head brushes stubble beneath the man's chin a moment.

Her voice cracks,
"...Now I do not know their names."