[Some notes before we begin. This is not cannon but it didn't quite feel right to call it a fan fic as if the situations plays out as they are hinted to in the story this very well could be cannon. Its more a futurstic what if story. This story is the capstone to the story of a Silver Elf called Azure Cerridwen. I do not plan on killing him off any time soon there are many things that he needs to do before I can call his story finished but if they were completed this is how his story would end. Now with that I welcome comments and criticisms because without them I cannot improve as a writer.
I would like to thank specifically Lady Alec and Niek Morenta for there help editing this and catching some obvious and embarrassing errors, run ons, incomplete thoughts and other things.
Also thank you for reading.
EDIT: Realized I did not tag everyone with characters invovled here. Logan07 CyberChaosV2 ]
It was a quiet autumn day in Zima’maloj. The storms that usually frequented them had relented the week before and the cooler air was a welcome relief from the summer’s heat. It was without much notice in the now bustling city, that a century ago was a forgotten backwater, a single elderly Silver Elf labored across the streets towards the market district.
No one marked his coming or gave him a second glance as he made his slow journey. His blue eyes that once held brilliant specks of silver now dulled as so much had in his life. He walked now with a finely carved staff with many strange runes engraved into it. As he walked the streets a faint smile came upon his lips when he saw a large stone building standing next to the ancient Manor’s walls.
Beledrent Blacksmithing with banners on either side of the door. They stood open and a young beardless boy was behind a counter taking an order from a woman who held a young girl by the hand. Her eyes were filled with wonder looking at the man to the side. Large and muscular but with darker skin. He looked up at the girl and smiled kindly, despite his sweat and being near the end of his workday.
Gregor’s grandson? Or Great Grandson I suppose.
The Blacksmith looked up feeling eyes upon him and stared at the old elf in the doorway eye’s for a long moment. Something about the way the elf regarded him piqued his curiosity and he frowned slightly. For some reason he thought about his grandfather Gregor.
Strange. The man thought to himself and was about to call out to the elf when he heard a crash and turned to see his son had knocked over a stack of swords. He groaned inwardly and barked out.
“If you’ve taken the edge off any of those blades you’ll be sharpening them all night Roy! I didn’t raise you to destroy the merchandise.” He looked angrier than he was and sighed as his son nodded mutely and walked off. Shaking his head he turned to look behind him and address the elf but the he was gone from the doorway.
He returned to his work he didn’t have time to chase elderly elves. Hammering away drove all thoughts of the encounter from his mind but later that night he would tell his son and wife old stories he had heard from his grandfather about the old days in Zima. Of the days when the Beledrent Steel smithing was the only real draw to this city.
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The sun was setting over the tops of the tree in the distance as the elf entered the cemetery. Like the city that it served it had expanded by leaps and bounds. The elf walked casually observing the names of the headstones. Some were so weathered that they were unreadable. Still he saw many names he recognized from long ago.
Still he never stopped for he was headed towards the small section that was now fenced off and beautifully maintained. Roses of various color curled around the bars and even here late in autumn the enclosed private section of the cemetery was beautiful.
Keeping it just like her mother did.
This brought a smile to his face despite himself, He approached the lock and he held out a hand grabbing the lock in his hands gently and drawing on powers he mastered lifetimes ago a blue light briefly illuminated the lock before it popped open.
He pushed the gate open and with more care he walked slowly through this section. Unlike before he stopped at several graves here noticing how the Beledrent section here had an entire corner dedicated to it. He walked over to the very first one and smiled.
He stood and walked to the next grave.
Hana Nawar.
He patted the grave as he walked by and looked to see the source of his journey, an above ground crypt. He walked closer and pulled a key from his waist and gently inserted the key turning. The door gave way but after all these years the mostly stone door was difficult for him to move. Yet he managed even if he was breathing hard after the exertion. The room was plain stone and the three inlets in the wall held six vaults but he knew only two of them were filled.
He looked to the vault on the left and in the dusty stone was carved in Common and despite where he stood he smiled as he noticed at the base of each stained glass window was a potted plant. The place was spotless.
“You’d be proud of them Merry. Last I saw your grandson was mayor now and rich man. You had three more great grandchildren than last time I visited.” The stone remained cold and silent but as he looked to the light shining through the window something amazing happened. He could see him sitting on the vault looking out the glass smiling. His blonde hair forever shaggy hung around his face and his blue eyes as bright as ever. He was not the elderly Halfling but the young man he knew so well.
“Huh? Is that so?” He said said conversationally turning to him and smiled. “Never would have thought myself the grandfather of a mayor or the sire of a great line. Neat.” He looked Azure over and looked shocked. “You got old Azure. I didn’t think you’d ever get old.”
Azure chuckled and gripped his staff. The chuckles turned to coughing after a while but he still smiled and looked from Merry to the center vault where one lay empty and the other the real reason for his visit.
“How’s your mother Merry?”
He smiled faded slightly and looked to Azure. “She’s good but sad. She misses you. You don’t visit like you used to.” Azure merely nodded at him and swallowed back a lump. After a few moments of looking. “Akasha visits a lot so that’s good. It cheers mom up to see her doing so well.”
“Yes, I imagine it does” After a moment of looking at the floor thinking on his daughter.” Akasha has done so well. Better than I ever did with Zima’maloj.” Merry folded his arms behind his head. A habit he didn’t develop until middle age. He shook his head though looking out at the fading light.
“It simply wasn’t meant for you Dad. You’re job was to build Arget for the Silver Elves with mom.” He said simply with a shrug and then brightened and turned. “Oh Cyra visited last week with Akasha. She came and chatted with us but she couldn’t talk to us not like you can….” He frowned as a realization came over him.
“Why can I talk to you now Azure? Is it magic?” Azure nodded and smiled after a moment considering Merry’s words.
“Aye but not the kind you’re thinking. Its an ordinary kind Merry, it just takes a long time for us to realize it.” Merry seemed to consider this for a moment longer and then nodded understandingly.
“I see.” He looked up to the glass again and sighed heavily. “I’ve got to go it seems. I’ll be seeing you dad.” And before Azure could respond he was gone as if he was never even there. Azure took a breath and then hobbled over to the center vault and hesitated as he stood before the one on the right.
Surrounding her was a tiny garden on all sides of the vault. The flowers were slightly wilted the few that remained. Even Akasha could not fight the cycle of nature, though she had mounted a valiant job so far. Most flowers had long since lost their blooms.
On the stone itself flanked on both sides by the Cerridwen Crest was another crest, a flower crown and on the inside of it in Elven engraved by his own hand were the words:
His hand traced the engraving and he knelt beside the vault which being slightly lowered in the ground his head was still well above. He slowly stretched his hand over and it and whispered quietly as he laid his head against the cool stone.
“I’m home Nir.”
It was a strange thing, he thought. That something he had spilled so many tears over and raged against so strongly decades ago now brought him nothing but peace now. He had felt it for the past month, even as he worked faster than he had in decades, he did so in complete peace. The arrangements had been finished. Cyra'tina even now was serving Arget with distinction.
As he lay there the sun set over the horizon and as the crescent moon rose just started to peek over the treetops and shine its light into the building he heard something. He looked up. Standing on the other side of the vault, Nir was looking at him with a warm smile. She was not the elderly woman who had finally succumbed to time after denying him for millennia but looked younger than Azure had ever known her. He could see his own reflection in those eyes looking up in wonder.
Azure smiled as and she took his hand he slowly rose to her. As they embraced in the moonlight Azure felt lighter than he had in the past century. So light he felt he might actually float away into the night, and in a way that happened.
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The next morning found a Moor Elf woman in fine clothes standing with her arms behind her back her hair starting to develop streaks of silver in it cascading down her back. She stood at the entrance of the crypt observing the “vandal”. Her guard had reported him last night. Panicky he had reported some sort of magery when he saw an unknown glow in the graveyard. She couldn’t help but laugh at him. A century ago every man, woman and child in Zima were used to strange lights in the night in the swamps but Zima’maloj had changed. Large sections of the swamp drained, the city expanded, walls raised, trade flourished.
The thought of how much the city had changed gave her pangs of nostalgia on occasion. However her father had taught her to move forward into a better future, you must leave the past behind. Her mother was no doubt saddened by the loss of the city as it was but she had tears in her eyes when she had told her how proud she was of her the last time they spoke.
At that moment the tears that she thought had dried after having discovered Azure’s body over her mother’s vault started flowing again. Her bodyguard had approached and kneeled. Asking in a quiet Mok’yra sensitive to Akasha’s distress, a talent his father had never quite been able to grasp.
“My Lady, what do you need?”
She tired to respond but found her voice gone. She swallowed and remained silent for a long time. Thannis never wavered or hurried her for an answer, she doubted he even looked up from his kneel. His father had trained him well. Finally her voice came back to her.
“Go find my sister. Tell her what happened. If we hurry she hasn’t finished negotiations in Risenport yet.” She took a breath to steady herself and with a catch in her voice she added. “And Mr. Sly’veen….tell her he died smiling, if you please.”
I would like to thank specifically Lady Alec and Niek Morenta for there help editing this and catching some obvious and embarrassing errors, run ons, incomplete thoughts and other things.
Also thank you for reading.
EDIT: Realized I did not tag everyone with characters invovled here. Logan07 CyberChaosV2 ]
It was a quiet autumn day in Zima’maloj. The storms that usually frequented them had relented the week before and the cooler air was a welcome relief from the summer’s heat. It was without much notice in the now bustling city, that a century ago was a forgotten backwater, a single elderly Silver Elf labored across the streets towards the market district.
No one marked his coming or gave him a second glance as he made his slow journey. His blue eyes that once held brilliant specks of silver now dulled as so much had in his life. He walked now with a finely carved staff with many strange runes engraved into it. As he walked the streets a faint smile came upon his lips when he saw a large stone building standing next to the ancient Manor’s walls.
Beledrent Blacksmithing with banners on either side of the door. They stood open and a young beardless boy was behind a counter taking an order from a woman who held a young girl by the hand. Her eyes were filled with wonder looking at the man to the side. Large and muscular but with darker skin. He looked up at the girl and smiled kindly, despite his sweat and being near the end of his workday.
Gregor’s grandson? Or Great Grandson I suppose.
The Blacksmith looked up feeling eyes upon him and stared at the old elf in the doorway eye’s for a long moment. Something about the way the elf regarded him piqued his curiosity and he frowned slightly. For some reason he thought about his grandfather Gregor.
Strange. The man thought to himself and was about to call out to the elf when he heard a crash and turned to see his son had knocked over a stack of swords. He groaned inwardly and barked out.
“If you’ve taken the edge off any of those blades you’ll be sharpening them all night Roy! I didn’t raise you to destroy the merchandise.” He looked angrier than he was and sighed as his son nodded mutely and walked off. Shaking his head he turned to look behind him and address the elf but the he was gone from the doorway.
He returned to his work he didn’t have time to chase elderly elves. Hammering away drove all thoughts of the encounter from his mind but later that night he would tell his son and wife old stories he had heard from his grandfather about the old days in Zima. Of the days when the Beledrent Steel smithing was the only real draw to this city.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun was setting over the tops of the tree in the distance as the elf entered the cemetery. Like the city that it served it had expanded by leaps and bounds. The elf walked casually observing the names of the headstones. Some were so weathered that they were unreadable. Still he saw many names he recognized from long ago.
Still he never stopped for he was headed towards the small section that was now fenced off and beautifully maintained. Roses of various color curled around the bars and even here late in autumn the enclosed private section of the cemetery was beautiful.
Keeping it just like her mother did.
This brought a smile to his face despite himself, He approached the lock and he held out a hand grabbing the lock in his hands gently and drawing on powers he mastered lifetimes ago a blue light briefly illuminated the lock before it popped open.
He pushed the gate open and with more care he walked slowly through this section. Unlike before he stopped at several graves here noticing how the Beledrent section here had an entire corner dedicated to it. He walked over to the very first one and smiled.
Here lies Roy Beledrent, Beloved Father and Friend.
He chuckled and knelt before the grave patting it. The nameplate had been made of steel forged by Gregor. He remembered the day well. The grave was empty he insisted that they never bury him but cremate the body and his urn was stored inside the stone of the headstone to protect it from the elements. A tradition that had stuck with the Beledrent’s to this day as he observed the plots around it but he wondered if they knew why they did it?He stood and walked to the next grave.
Hana Nawar.
He patted the grave as he walked by and looked to see the source of his journey, an above ground crypt. He walked closer and pulled a key from his waist and gently inserted the key turning. The door gave way but after all these years the mostly stone door was difficult for him to move. Yet he managed even if he was breathing hard after the exertion. The room was plain stone and the three inlets in the wall held six vaults but he knew only two of them were filled.
He looked to the vault on the left and in the dusty stone was carved in Common and despite where he stood he smiled as he noticed at the base of each stained glass window was a potted plant. The place was spotless.
Merry Cerridwen, Beloved Son and Brother, You will Never Be Forgotten.
The Elf crossed to the vault and patted it gently. He stroked the vault that was twice the size of its contents and sighed heavily. That was a hard time in the family even if they knew it was coming for a long time. Merry had lived to the ripe old age of ninety three and had three sons and two daughters. They had gone on to refound the village of Lydel and his line was very active to this day in the bustling hamlet. “You’d be proud of them Merry. Last I saw your grandson was mayor now and rich man. You had three more great grandchildren than last time I visited.” The stone remained cold and silent but as he looked to the light shining through the window something amazing happened. He could see him sitting on the vault looking out the glass smiling. His blonde hair forever shaggy hung around his face and his blue eyes as bright as ever. He was not the elderly Halfling but the young man he knew so well.
“Huh? Is that so?” He said said conversationally turning to him and smiled. “Never would have thought myself the grandfather of a mayor or the sire of a great line. Neat.” He looked Azure over and looked shocked. “You got old Azure. I didn’t think you’d ever get old.”
Azure chuckled and gripped his staff. The chuckles turned to coughing after a while but he still smiled and looked from Merry to the center vault where one lay empty and the other the real reason for his visit.
“How’s your mother Merry?”
He smiled faded slightly and looked to Azure. “She’s good but sad. She misses you. You don’t visit like you used to.” Azure merely nodded at him and swallowed back a lump. After a few moments of looking. “Akasha visits a lot so that’s good. It cheers mom up to see her doing so well.”
“Yes, I imagine it does” After a moment of looking at the floor thinking on his daughter.” Akasha has done so well. Better than I ever did with Zima’maloj.” Merry folded his arms behind his head. A habit he didn’t develop until middle age. He shook his head though looking out at the fading light.
“It simply wasn’t meant for you Dad. You’re job was to build Arget for the Silver Elves with mom.” He said simply with a shrug and then brightened and turned. “Oh Cyra visited last week with Akasha. She came and chatted with us but she couldn’t talk to us not like you can….” He frowned as a realization came over him.
“Why can I talk to you now Azure? Is it magic?” Azure nodded and smiled after a moment considering Merry’s words.
“Aye but not the kind you’re thinking. Its an ordinary kind Merry, it just takes a long time for us to realize it.” Merry seemed to consider this for a moment longer and then nodded understandingly.
“I see.” He looked up to the glass again and sighed heavily. “I’ve got to go it seems. I’ll be seeing you dad.” And before Azure could respond he was gone as if he was never even there. Azure took a breath and then hobbled over to the center vault and hesitated as he stood before the one on the right.
Surrounding her was a tiny garden on all sides of the vault. The flowers were slightly wilted the few that remained. Even Akasha could not fight the cycle of nature, though she had mounted a valiant job so far. Most flowers had long since lost their blooms.
On the stone itself flanked on both sides by the Cerridwen Crest was another crest, a flower crown and on the inside of it in Elven engraved by his own hand were the words:
“Here lies the eternal Lady of Zima and Arget,
Guardian of my heart,
May her sleep be sweet.”
Guardian of my heart,
May her sleep be sweet.”
His hand traced the engraving and he knelt beside the vault which being slightly lowered in the ground his head was still well above. He slowly stretched his hand over and it and whispered quietly as he laid his head against the cool stone.
“I’m home Nir.”
It was a strange thing, he thought. That something he had spilled so many tears over and raged against so strongly decades ago now brought him nothing but peace now. He had felt it for the past month, even as he worked faster than he had in decades, he did so in complete peace. The arrangements had been finished. Cyra'tina even now was serving Arget with distinction.
As he lay there the sun set over the horizon and as the crescent moon rose just started to peek over the treetops and shine its light into the building he heard something. He looked up. Standing on the other side of the vault, Nir was looking at him with a warm smile. She was not the elderly woman who had finally succumbed to time after denying him for millennia but looked younger than Azure had ever known her. He could see his own reflection in those eyes looking up in wonder.
Azure smiled as and she took his hand he slowly rose to her. As they embraced in the moonlight Azure felt lighter than he had in the past century. So light he felt he might actually float away into the night, and in a way that happened.
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The next morning found a Moor Elf woman in fine clothes standing with her arms behind her back her hair starting to develop streaks of silver in it cascading down her back. She stood at the entrance of the crypt observing the “vandal”. Her guard had reported him last night. Panicky he had reported some sort of magery when he saw an unknown glow in the graveyard. She couldn’t help but laugh at him. A century ago every man, woman and child in Zima were used to strange lights in the night in the swamps but Zima’maloj had changed. Large sections of the swamp drained, the city expanded, walls raised, trade flourished.
The thought of how much the city had changed gave her pangs of nostalgia on occasion. However her father had taught her to move forward into a better future, you must leave the past behind. Her mother was no doubt saddened by the loss of the city as it was but she had tears in her eyes when she had told her how proud she was of her the last time they spoke.
At that moment the tears that she thought had dried after having discovered Azure’s body over her mother’s vault started flowing again. Her bodyguard had approached and kneeled. Asking in a quiet Mok’yra sensitive to Akasha’s distress, a talent his father had never quite been able to grasp.
“My Lady, what do you need?”
She tired to respond but found her voice gone. She swallowed and remained silent for a long time. Thannis never wavered or hurried her for an answer, she doubted he even looked up from his kneel. His father had trained him well. Finally her voice came back to her.
“Go find my sister. Tell her what happened. If we hurry she hasn’t finished negotiations in Risenport yet.” She took a breath to steady herself and with a catch in her voice she added. “And Mr. Sly’veen….tell her he died smiling, if you please.”
The End
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