*A letter is written in Malandrae's messy script, sealed and delivered to Silveria Silverleaf*
Dear Miss Silveria,
I hope this letter finds you well! I have given much thought to the 'conversation' that we had at the party last evening. Please forgive my sudden departure and know that it was not your words or our 'debate' that caused me to feel ill. After recovering, I came to find my thoughts drifting back to lessons I've learned before, and wanted to share a few things with you.
I'd like to relate a short fable to you, something handed down to me as a child. You could say that this is a piece of your own heritage in a way, for it is a story passed on amongst our people for many generations. I think you will see the point of it after I write it down, so please bear with me. It is entitled, The Sorceress of Eldareth.
Long ago, in noble Eldareth, there lived a Sorceress fair and powerful. Her tower rose above the others, her spells known far and wide for their might. Many envied her, looked up to her, and respected her. Only the Queen herself rivaled her in power, and it seemed as if all the world was at her fingertips, at her beck and call.
Despite all of this, the Sorceress knew that she could have more power, more even than the Queen if she could but gather as much magic as possible to herself. To that end, she reached out far and wide, looking for power dangerous and deadly. Her search took her to an abandoned tower, sitting alone in the hills far from her home. It was rumored that this tower contained the remains of a powerful enchantress, one who possessed a necklace that would grant power beyond any the living now controlled.
Excited, the Sorceress broke open the ancient seals upon the tower, and found within it many empty halls, filled with the dust of ages. In the lowest rooms she finally came upon a crypt, sealed away and revealed only with magic. As the tales told, she found the body of the enchantress, preserved as if she had simply laid down to sleep, the necklace around her neck. Quickly the Sorceress grasped it, pulling it from the long dead enchantress, watching as her body turned to dust in a second.
Triumphant, she returned to Eldareth, and the necklace granted her great power. Seas moved at her command, mountains flattened and crops flourished or withered at her whim. And yet, the Sorceress found her newfound joy in the power fading. Each morning she would look at herself in her mirror, and her reflection would stare at her, accusingly. The power she had taken was not hers, was not earned but rather stolen her own reflected eyes would accuse. She would dismiss her inner voice, despite the tingling warning it brought. Why would she heed it, when she was the most powerful magic user in all the world? She had made herself more powerful than the Queen, more powerful than Elune.
Still the eyes stared, haunting her now in her dreams, when she closed her eyes she would see the reflection, the image changing from her own appearance to the enchantress whom she had stolen the necklace from. What reward did the power bring her, except a lonely untended tomb?
As her use of the necklace grew, her ability to use her other spells dwindled, and she found no joy in her work any longer. Never again did she need to research a spell, or learn a new art. The necklace provided all, and everything became a dull gray drudgery as the thrill and joy of discovery was taken from life. Years passed, and she was spoken of far and wide, but it meant little. Each day she would rest her head on her pillow, and each morning it became harder to awaken, to face the dull nothingness of a power unearned, of magic stolen selfishly.
Finally, one day, she found herself laying down in her bed, her will to continue the endless monotony of her life fading. Her joy in everything gone forever. As she closed her eyes, she knew then that it would be for the last time, for what was the point in waking?
But she did wake. Her eyes opened on blackness, and she used the feeble remains of her magic to cast a dim light. It revealed only gray stone over her head and all around her, rather than her bedroom. Try as she might, she could not move the stone, and her magic had decayed to uselessness in the years of her reliance on the necklace. She cried out, only to hear her own voice echoing back from the stone around her, and the light, beautiful laughter of another elf on the other side of the stone.
It was the enchantress, and her mocking laughter rang through the tomb, the tomb that the Sorceress now resided in. The necklace was gone from her neck, and everything that had come before was but a dream, a nothingness used to drain her magic. The footsteps of the enchantress faded away as she left the Sorceress in her place, and the light that the elf had conjured faded, the last of her magic gone, sealing her in darkness forever more.
It is a dark tale, as you can see Miss Silveria. But it has a very important lesson in it, one that I think my people forgot long ago. We have retold this story countless times, but even we fell victim to the crime of grasping at power that was never ours, of using the lazy method of siphoning energy without the work required to truly appreciate what it was we were doing.
I have been tested twice so far. To you, the answers to the tests might have seemed obvious, but to me they were the most difficult tests I have ever taken.
The first test was when I had to choose between fleeing my life forever, or staying with my family, friends, and other loved ones. They had chosen a dark path, and I had the option of staying with them, or running and forfeiting both the power they offered and my connection with them forever. With great pain and reluctance I chose to leave them behind, and passed that test.
The second test was at the end of the world as I knew it. I had the option of dying with my world, and remaining undiminished as I passed from this world, or of using every last ounce of my power to save my life, knowing I would never again hold that power in my hands. I chose to diminish myself, and in the moment you call the Sundering, I too was sundered by my own hand. The spell that kept me alive cost me everything, all of my magic and power, and no matter how hard I study now, I will never be that same Sorceress again. I chose life, and a chance to redeem myself, over my power.
Our conversation yesterday shows me now what my third and final test will be; I will have to choose to remain as I was and be destroyed by my own hand as in the fable I just related to you, or strive to become something new in this new world. Do I work towards a new future, the new life that I already gave up so much for? Or do I allow old habits to draw me down the easy path, siphoning power from this Sunwell that the pink elves have created, easily giving me magic that has tainted their entire race? Did I sacrifice everything only to throw it away now?
I will pass this test, as I passed the first two. I did not live so that I could die pointlessly now. I lived to change my destiny, and I will do that. Our conversation has shown me how much further I have yet to go, but also that there is a way, should I open my eyes enough to see it.
I hope you do not mind that I sent you this letter, but I had to put these thoughts down on paper. I think writing this to you is as much a way for me to release these feelings as an explanation for my thoughts and an apology for still faltering in my steps. I hope you can understand, and that you will continue to lend me your support which has meant so much so far.
I leave you with this final thought; I am neither the Enchantress nor the Sorceress. I am simply Malandrae, and I will diminish and fade to nothing before that fate takes me, before I make the same mistakes as SHE did.
Your faithful friend,
Grand Apprentice Malandrae Moonwhisper, Former Second Advisor of the Queen's Research Council
Dear Miss Silveria,
I hope this letter finds you well! I have given much thought to the 'conversation' that we had at the party last evening. Please forgive my sudden departure and know that it was not your words or our 'debate' that caused me to feel ill. After recovering, I came to find my thoughts drifting back to lessons I've learned before, and wanted to share a few things with you.
I'd like to relate a short fable to you, something handed down to me as a child. You could say that this is a piece of your own heritage in a way, for it is a story passed on amongst our people for many generations. I think you will see the point of it after I write it down, so please bear with me. It is entitled, The Sorceress of Eldareth.
Long ago, in noble Eldareth, there lived a Sorceress fair and powerful. Her tower rose above the others, her spells known far and wide for their might. Many envied her, looked up to her, and respected her. Only the Queen herself rivaled her in power, and it seemed as if all the world was at her fingertips, at her beck and call.
Despite all of this, the Sorceress knew that she could have more power, more even than the Queen if she could but gather as much magic as possible to herself. To that end, she reached out far and wide, looking for power dangerous and deadly. Her search took her to an abandoned tower, sitting alone in the hills far from her home. It was rumored that this tower contained the remains of a powerful enchantress, one who possessed a necklace that would grant power beyond any the living now controlled.
Excited, the Sorceress broke open the ancient seals upon the tower, and found within it many empty halls, filled with the dust of ages. In the lowest rooms she finally came upon a crypt, sealed away and revealed only with magic. As the tales told, she found the body of the enchantress, preserved as if she had simply laid down to sleep, the necklace around her neck. Quickly the Sorceress grasped it, pulling it from the long dead enchantress, watching as her body turned to dust in a second.
Triumphant, she returned to Eldareth, and the necklace granted her great power. Seas moved at her command, mountains flattened and crops flourished or withered at her whim. And yet, the Sorceress found her newfound joy in the power fading. Each morning she would look at herself in her mirror, and her reflection would stare at her, accusingly. The power she had taken was not hers, was not earned but rather stolen her own reflected eyes would accuse. She would dismiss her inner voice, despite the tingling warning it brought. Why would she heed it, when she was the most powerful magic user in all the world? She had made herself more powerful than the Queen, more powerful than Elune.
Still the eyes stared, haunting her now in her dreams, when she closed her eyes she would see the reflection, the image changing from her own appearance to the enchantress whom she had stolen the necklace from. What reward did the power bring her, except a lonely untended tomb?
As her use of the necklace grew, her ability to use her other spells dwindled, and she found no joy in her work any longer. Never again did she need to research a spell, or learn a new art. The necklace provided all, and everything became a dull gray drudgery as the thrill and joy of discovery was taken from life. Years passed, and she was spoken of far and wide, but it meant little. Each day she would rest her head on her pillow, and each morning it became harder to awaken, to face the dull nothingness of a power unearned, of magic stolen selfishly.
Finally, one day, she found herself laying down in her bed, her will to continue the endless monotony of her life fading. Her joy in everything gone forever. As she closed her eyes, she knew then that it would be for the last time, for what was the point in waking?
But she did wake. Her eyes opened on blackness, and she used the feeble remains of her magic to cast a dim light. It revealed only gray stone over her head and all around her, rather than her bedroom. Try as she might, she could not move the stone, and her magic had decayed to uselessness in the years of her reliance on the necklace. She cried out, only to hear her own voice echoing back from the stone around her, and the light, beautiful laughter of another elf on the other side of the stone.
It was the enchantress, and her mocking laughter rang through the tomb, the tomb that the Sorceress now resided in. The necklace was gone from her neck, and everything that had come before was but a dream, a nothingness used to drain her magic. The footsteps of the enchantress faded away as she left the Sorceress in her place, and the light that the elf had conjured faded, the last of her magic gone, sealing her in darkness forever more.
It is a dark tale, as you can see Miss Silveria. But it has a very important lesson in it, one that I think my people forgot long ago. We have retold this story countless times, but even we fell victim to the crime of grasping at power that was never ours, of using the lazy method of siphoning energy without the work required to truly appreciate what it was we were doing.
I have been tested twice so far. To you, the answers to the tests might have seemed obvious, but to me they were the most difficult tests I have ever taken.
The first test was when I had to choose between fleeing my life forever, or staying with my family, friends, and other loved ones. They had chosen a dark path, and I had the option of staying with them, or running and forfeiting both the power they offered and my connection with them forever. With great pain and reluctance I chose to leave them behind, and passed that test.
The second test was at the end of the world as I knew it. I had the option of dying with my world, and remaining undiminished as I passed from this world, or of using every last ounce of my power to save my life, knowing I would never again hold that power in my hands. I chose to diminish myself, and in the moment you call the Sundering, I too was sundered by my own hand. The spell that kept me alive cost me everything, all of my magic and power, and no matter how hard I study now, I will never be that same Sorceress again. I chose life, and a chance to redeem myself, over my power.
Our conversation yesterday shows me now what my third and final test will be; I will have to choose to remain as I was and be destroyed by my own hand as in the fable I just related to you, or strive to become something new in this new world. Do I work towards a new future, the new life that I already gave up so much for? Or do I allow old habits to draw me down the easy path, siphoning power from this Sunwell that the pink elves have created, easily giving me magic that has tainted their entire race? Did I sacrifice everything only to throw it away now?
I will pass this test, as I passed the first two. I did not live so that I could die pointlessly now. I lived to change my destiny, and I will do that. Our conversation has shown me how much further I have yet to go, but also that there is a way, should I open my eyes enough to see it.
I hope you do not mind that I sent you this letter, but I had to put these thoughts down on paper. I think writing this to you is as much a way for me to release these feelings as an explanation for my thoughts and an apology for still faltering in my steps. I hope you can understand, and that you will continue to lend me your support which has meant so much so far.
I leave you with this final thought; I am neither the Enchantress nor the Sorceress. I am simply Malandrae, and I will diminish and fade to nothing before that fate takes me, before I make the same mistakes as SHE did.
Your faithful friend,
Grand Apprentice Malandrae Moonwhisper, Former Second Advisor of the Queen's Research Council
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