7
Beloved mother,
beloved mother veiled forever in the grace of the stars, clad in the cloak of moonlight the Daughter of Nightskies has laid upon your shoulders as garment.
Far too long has been the time since last I wrote to you, and I would not know what words of apology, what bindings of feelings with ink on paper I could attempt to express how much I wish to beg your pardon for that. To think alone of what anguish and uncertainty I might have caused you further burdens my heart with guilt, despite my knowledge of your ever-forgiving kindness, which makes me feel you will forgive me, as you have always done, be I deserving of it or not. For you are my mother, and I am your daughter, bound in love to you perpetually.
The winds of time are changing around me, and I could not even start to try to write down all that has transpired, all things that happened to me, or all deeds that I did, all hardship endured, all joy felt. I am slipping, o mother, slipping into an uncertainty and doubt I never so have experienced. Solace I only find in the numbing cold, in the thought of you and in the certainty of the love of our Goddess, who will not abandon us – ever.
I have found love again, though this one has lost the innocence and destined determination. My heart is aching still with the loss of Aeluren, beloved Aeluren, whose arms gave shelter and whose smile gave comfort. O mother, I miss her still! With every thread of the fabric of my very soul, I am yearning for her touch and smile and caress and voice and laughter!
This new love is not as untainted. Not as complete, not woven with the innocence and gentle surety. It is of pride, of rivalry, of pain, of loss and of strife. Ever is she burdened. When I need to speak, she holds, when I need to be held, she loves, and when I need to be loved, she speaks. And still, I cannot help but love her, while my heart is bleeding.
And the call of the Most Exalted, of our Great Lady and Mistress is pulling on me. The moon circling above shines her light with a clarity I have never before experienced, despite all her glorious grace, and I cannot else than bow my head in humility and do her calling. I should be happy, and I am, for what merrier thing could there be than to be called by the Daughter of the Nightskies, to serve her will and be her hand and love her as I love you.
But for all love I have and feel, for all the comfort in the thought of the stars above, there is sorrow. Petty sorrow, perhaps, which I would need to shed like tears that sparkle in a pool that after they have fallen all the more brightly reflects the face of the stars and moon, but sorrow still that is numbing me.
The mighty halls of Sunderhelme have fallen. Where was I when they fell? On an errant of the king, sure, but would it not have been my duty as Stewardess to be there, and if necessary, fall in the first line? I know not what happened there in full. And I can only try to close my heart from hate when I think that with only kinslayer and his band, seven of the towns that were once home to me, where the fell evil of Amythyzul was defeated, seven of these towns were ruined and destroyed. Plague has ravaged the lands in which you once sent a mirage of your soothing presence. Maybe I could not have changed it. And whenever I think of it I feel the rage in my heart, the pure boiling hate, and my hands try to clutch the stars to bring me comfort.
The Faenor Bital of Berronar will announce me Warden of Light. I think she honours my pledge, but I feel part is to comfort me, to give me the faith chamber to cling on. I do not know whether I shall accept. I should, but I am torn, and my heart is broken like the seal that once held He Who Has Not Yet Come. The elven rune of binding. It is not a poetical thought to think when it was shattered, so was my heart, my being, my existance? Only to slowly wane, to fade away with time and in evergrowing sorrow, as everything is slipping my grasp, and I cannot hold back anymore what I wish to.
I love you.
There are rumors of a great shadow having set foot in the Anauroch. Even an ultimatum to the High Lady of Silverymoon was made, and again my heart is split. It was her who refused my sword when I willingly offered it, twice, and yet it was her whom I had admired like a divine being among mortals, like a lady worthy of fealty, a cause to fight for and defend, her wisdom and benevolence and generosity. What have I become, if pride gives me pause to travel there at once and offer my sword again, without thought? Why should I care to travel and act as an mercenary or soldier of fortune or adventurer. The nation of Luruar would take my service, and even without recognition once again, I could help.
Maybe it is an excuse, and maybe it is a sign of the uncertainty that has devoured my heart, is devouring it still. But I shall rest this decision with the council of dreams, within the tangled paths of reverie the Moonbow commands. She saved the inn of friendly arms. Did I write you of this? No. No I did not, for I have not written you in a long time, and again I apologize, beloved mother, lady next to my heart just after the Goddess that has sown the twinkling light for us to follow. It was a vision before my eyes, a revelation of her shrouds, that allowed me to pierce the web of deceit that was covering the plans of the enemy, which here was the spider queen herself, whose name I shall not spell for all her bloated madness. Yet, praise the Moonbow!, for the can be no shrouds she cannot withdraw. And back she rolled them, and as I descended beneath, to the vile and dark threat in the catacomps below, I left my shield and sword and only gripped the staff that a friend who passed once held. Fierce was the battle, and I was alone. No, I have to correct that. With me was the Goddess, and her shrouding veils proteced me against foe and fear, against hardship and horror.
I shall not enumerate all the foes I slew that day. Let it be known that it was scores of foul spider spawn and horrifying chimeras bound with the body of an Ilythiir, capable of deeds of magic, yet enraged with the madness their twisted, accursed form must have brought them. Their prowess in battle was great, and grievious wounds I suffered, as still the mosst direst of threats only lay before me after I slew their king. Out of a chasm in the ground, the most gargantuan spider I could ever in all shock and horror imagine crawled, larger still than the lumbering beast of a small house we slew in Waterdeep some years earlier! It was bloated, gigantic, unbelievably ugly, and I thought I would die just from looking at it. But, such relief was not given to me. And chittering and spewing poisonous goo from its claws, it assailed me, with all wrath the spider queen herself would have imbued into a creature which must have been the most precious thing to her! It was a miracle my staff did not sunder, and nothing but the cloak of faith the Moonbow granted me could explain how the mithril of king Bruenor’s plate held off her vicious mandibles. It was the most terrible battle I ever have faced, for there was only wrath, and again and again I let the wooden shaft clobber at her legs, fangs and eyes. Until finally, as I felt the last of my strength leaving me, they finally went dim, and the beast fell back into the abyss it crawled from. And with it, the whole complex of a cavernous catacomb began to crunch and crumble, crushing pieces of rocks all about me. I dragged myself out somehow, one of her giant attack legs that has broken off as trophy thrust to the gnome who found and healed me.
The little hamlet shall in future hold a statue to Sehanine to praise her saving of it, to thank the love an elven goddess can bring to a settlement of men, just because one of her people had set foot there. O endless is her generosity!
But alas, I see I am already finishing up the third page of paper. So much I have still told. So much I have to tell still. I will need to visit you soon, o mother, I would long so much to feel your arms, to hold you close to me and not let go until hunger or thirst set in. I love you. I wish I could say and write something more true, something more powerful than that. But then I realize, beloved mother, that surely you know what I feel for you, what I must feel for you, for how could I repay all your kindess with anything less than total and complete love, without compromise nor hesitation?
I love you, from the deepest of my heart, mind and soul.
Yours forever in love
Aszûne
Letters
Letters
The power of concealment lies in revelation.
Posted the newest first, here's all of them in chronological order, including the 7th again:
1
Beloved mother,
may the light of the stars grace you with its beauty, as it has always done.
I know that you are not worried, for I have been away only three years now, but yet, it almost appears to me as if time and events pass faster in the realms of men. As you may recall, beloved mother, I just wanted to see the city of Loudwater. Yet, my journeys have brought me farther than I would have imagined in such a short time. But mistress Moonbow oversees the journeys of our kin too, you taught me, so do not be worried.
I miss you, as I miss home. Every night when I see up to the stars, I wish I were back with you, with the lovely glades, the waterfalls that sparkle in the moonlight, the trees with the stars sown like glittering jewels amid their branching hair, with the morning mists like a cloak of velvet and silk gently caressing your legs with each very step you take, the ponds in which the stars of mistress Moonbows' heaven fields are mirrored thousandfold. It confuses me, but I miss Clearwater Glade more than I thought I would.
Beloved mother, I wish to tell you my deepest appreciation for the present you sent me. I know that you never wanted me to wear it, and thus I am only all the more grateful that you had father's armor refit for me. It has kept me safe since I donned it. That is, I donned only after, I hesitate to tell you as not to stir more concern in you, after I fell in battle. It is a grim tale, and my heart is reluctant to tell you written about it. Just be assured that I am well, as far as I can tell you.
Many places have I seen, and I was involved in many things that were way above me. Too many to recount within a limited letter. I know you taught me patience, beloved mother, yet I cannot await to see you again to tell you everything in detail, and to feel the warm embrace of your arms again, and to listen to your words soothing and beautiful, and to marvel the moon and the stars with you again. I want to tell you that I am sincerely grateful for everything you strove to plant as wisdom in my mind. Many a time it has preserved me from fell evil.
The lesser races confuse me. They seem to be striving to achieve, but too hasty to do so with thought and to sustain it, and their ambitions resemble greed in my eyes, and they seem to be always lacking time. I fear my words sound arrogant, and I still have made good friends with some of them. In fact, I reside within the city of Silverymoon at the moment, and the mistress of that city, the High Lady Alustriel, alone would be enough to counter every prejudice one might have about men. She is beautiful and wise, yet with a stern dedication. I was allowed to see her two times now, and another time I saw her at a great festival with many a minstrel and singing and joy and merrymaking, and everytime I thought, pardon my words, one of the Seladrine was standing before me! I could not lift my eyes to look at her properly, even though she told me to. I admire her deeply.
Alas, but also I have made contact with the Ilythiiri, and the reality was even more frightening than every story I read could have been. Their warriors fight with great skill and might, while their mages and priests hold power too terrible and large to be recounted properly. My friends call me hero for those encounters, where I fought alongside with them, and they claim I managed to save some of them. Yet, I do not feel it, as I tremble in mortal fear at only the very thought of facing them again, and I wish for mistress Moonbow to weave her shrouding veils to conceal and protect me from having to do so.
I apologize that I cannot write more and in more detail now, but my time is quick. I admit that is something I am not used to, so please excuse when I wrote too little or too much concerning some topics. I have to study now, as I will have to pass tests within this coming tenday, and I would not want to fail. Those tests are the initiation to become a knight in silver, a guard for the city of Silverymoon, as I have aspired to become. Or rather, have been recruited to. I thought keeping in shape, while trying to do good things in helping the city, would be the right course to take.
I hope I do not appear immodest to you, my beloved mother, but yet I am not really content. They are named knights, but all they do is standing around guarding doors, or patrolling the streets for people loitering too near to temples, or for muggers and bandits. I do not want you to get the wrong impression, I have the deepest respect for that work, and I am convinced it is an honour to be allowed those tests, especially since it appears elves, and females, are very few among their ranks. I have not met either so far in service to the city.
But still, I do not feel that guarding a gate or patrolling streets is something I would feel happy with. That stirs me greatly, for I do not know the source of this discontent, and I question my modesty and to be as humble as you have told me to be. Here it is, the chance for a great honour and to do good, and yet I hesitate and feel I would want to do something else.
O how I enjoyed traversing the desert on an errand put upon my shoulders by the High Lady Alustriel, due to a letter the lady Mhair Szeltune of Waterdeep gave me! It was a perilous journey, and dangerous, especially as I travelled back only with sir Greymantle, a wizard, as company. But yet, I felt such a feeling of achievement, as we arrived, though weary and wounded, but safe in Silverymoon again! I had succeeded in that dangerous task, and I was proud not to have failed the wishes of the High Lady.
But I feel my thoughts are straying, beloved mother, and the light of the stars is quickly waning as I write. I will have to rest and to prepare for more studies, as everything will happen so soon.
My thoughts are with you, and I miss you and Clearwater Glade as I would miss the rays of the moon and the twinkling starlight.
I pray to mistress Moonbow to lift her veils before my path, while shrouding me to travel it safely, and I hope from the deepest of my heart to see you again.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
2
Beloved mother,
may the virtue and the grace of the stars embrace and shroud you like a veiling cloak woven of mistress Moonbow's power and generosity.
Alas, my thoughts are in turmoil, and uncertainty boils within me. Did I write you I was scheduled for my trials to become a knight in silver? Those have been postponed two times, and now I am even suspended from duty for reasons and incidents I yet have not come to fully understand.
I have to admit that desperate anger and frustration have had a firm hold of me, and every night I prayed and tried to remember your kindness and calmness, and found comfort within the soothing memories of you.
Beloved mother, what is it that a knight does? Is it to follow orders and abide strictly, without thoughts, to a code of laws? Is it not that a knight protects the innocent and weak as he is able to? Is it not that the greater good is all that he bows to, that his dedication to do good, his chivalry, his honour and his humility should be without par? Is it not that he strives to prevent evil at every cost necessary, yet with as little cost as possible?
Oh, pray, mother, I wish for your wisdom, I wish for your insight and your soft and soothing words whispered whenever I despaired or was thrown into doubts and fears! My heart is in uproar, and my soul does not even find rest wandering the realms of our dreams. Is it this way that it should end? Am I not worthy to pledge my cause as she, the High Lady, had wished for? The city would need me, she said, and yet, by accepting means of deception - is it not mistress Moonbow who uses her illusions to protect from evil? - in trying to obtain information to save the citizens of the Silvermarches, I was thought to be unsuiting to serve the city. Have I done something wrong? Is it I who am to blame? Oh, had I have had any idea what my friends planned, or how it would end, I would have objected! But, alas, it is as it is.
And to complicate everything, another burden has been placed upon my shoulders, a burden I am not sure whether I can be the one to carry it. You know the vast forests of Cormanthyr, in the lands referred to as "the dales" now, that our people long ago gave to the humans, as the treaty of the standing stones still holds witness to?
A fierce black dragon was slain there a time ago, a dragon, that hundreds of years ago, destroyed and incinerated one of the holy sites of our people. I was allowed to enter among one of the first into that sacred grove, and together with a priest of our great king Corellon, I gathered the bones of our long dead kin, their bones scorched white or black by the dragons fire.
Yet, the people of the dales cavort openly with the Ilythiiri, and even give them shelter, inviting them to their holy ceremonies! Thus, The-silent-falling-Leaf, one of our wild kin, decided to defend the grove at all cost - he was the former guardian. Now he reckoned he placed himself into dire peril fighting the Ilythiiri and their human and dwarven allies, and thus... he trusted me the skull of Calduil, which opens the enchanted, impenetrable gate to the grove.
I, mother, I hold that key, and am obliged to safeguard it. I will do so using the veils of mistress Moonbow, and noone knows that in fact I am hiding it. May the illusions of our mistress protect and shroud me and keep me safe from harm, fulfilling the duty tha has been given to me.
Oh mother, beloved teacher and guardian, if only I held your wisdom and certainty to decide what is right and what is wrong. If only I had your strength and power, but I have not, and I do not know whether I ever can grow to become worthy of everything you saw in me.
Your trust and your love is the only certainty I do have in these days, and of course the light of the stars shining overhead. Sometimes I wish I could be one of them, sown by mistress Moonbow to grant guidance and a glittering sparkle of hope for the travellers lost in deepest night.
My thoughts are with you, and while I feel like the young foliage in the forest, my love for you resembles the eternal rock beneath.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
3
To the High Lady Alustriel of Silverymoon, chosen of Mystra and ruler of the confederacy of the Silvermarches, also known as the nation of Luruar
*
Most deeply admired High Lady,
I do hope with all my heart and soul that my letter to you does not offend you.
I am all convinced there are things more important to you, and thus I will keep this brief. But, to me, it is of great importance to do what I wanted to with this letter -
to apologize to you, o respected and admired High Lady. I fear that in my confusion - as indeed the things you revealed to me where a striking surprise - I may have not always shown the respect and demeanour that would have been appropriate.
For my defense, I can only offer my youth, and the way my kind perceives the passing of time, which makes your revelation all so more drastic and shocking in the eyes of one of my kin.
Still, I can only bid you, true with heart and mind and longing for it sincerely, to forgive me.
Also, please, let none of what I may have done wrong shed a bad light upon sir Starhalls, he only posessed the generosity to accompany me as I bade him; it is his wish for me to stress that we are not on friendly terms and he would wish to have nothing to do with me. I am sure you will not let my presence that day influence your regards of him.
I hope for your kind heart and mildness to accept the apology I hereby humbly offer.
May the guiding smile of your goddess always shine upon you.
Yours faithfully,
Aszûne Whisperwind
4
Beloved mother,
may the starry light of mistress Moonbow's nightsky embrace you, as it ever has.
Again I feel the need to write to you, and indeed many more things have I beheld. O mother, I am troubled greatly by the grim tidings that I see wherever I put my gaze in this world - evil is stirring, darkness is rising, and ever grow those fewer that stand against it. And even if they do, they are seperated.
In fact, I have come to hold the dwarves in great respect for that. They posess honour and courage, and a stout-hearted dedication many could look up on, despite the dwarven size. Also, I greatly admire their feeling of kinship to each other. They are hospitable and helpful, and their hearts are generous, no matter the tales about their greed. Yes, I would have to admit that they have even offered warmer welcomes to me than others of my own kin!
Most deeply impressed I was by king Bruenor of clan Battlehammer, whom I had the honour to meet in the frozen north. Speaking of which, o how lovely your mirage was! O mother, never had I hoped to receive such a token of your goodwill, and I was nearly crying of joy, so moved was I by your gesture! My deepest thanks for your spell, mother, it was a gift much enjoyed, and one I am most grateful for.
Excuse me from straying. I did not want to start the letter again, so I will let it stand as it is, and continue now.
As I was writing, high up in the region of the ten towns I happened to meet king Bruenor. The frozen north is a beautiful land. Savage and harsh, yet somehow, it is soothing to the eye and mind, and the freezing cold is cleansing, when you have grown accustomed to it.
But, even there a dark shadow has befallen the land. In no other place so far I have felt the urgency and the need of help, and no matter how small it is what I can ever, yet I do feel I have pledged part of my heart to that land. Perhaps it is that I am growing up, beloved mother - I feel that somehow, my admiration for the High Lady is vaning. Not my respect, but perhaps my deep admiring of her was child-like. Looking up to some idol. Yet, I have realized that she probably will never recognize me or hold me in a high regard, I am just a knight to her - and not even one of her best, I fear, as I do not excel at a guard's duty, I am afraid. I think it was vain and foolish to hope to achieve her goodwill and regards.
Yet, in the frozen norths, I felt like I could actually do something. O, mother, how bright our spirits were burning as we assailed the very gates of Stormhold! I know you might deem such actions folly, but it was born out of passion and a moment - and did you not say to trust one's own heart? Fierce the battle ensued, only us, a group of adventurers, against the unleashed might of Stormhold, orcs and ogres abundant. Great losses we inflicted to the darkness, and none of us fell, until finally we had to retreat! Truly, mistress Moonbow must have smiled upon us, since her veils granted us such protection.
Great was the fury of the lords of Stormhold, and in fact, we found ourselves under siege as we were in the halls of clan Battlehammer. There it was that I met king Bruenor, righteous heir to mithril halls. He is a gruff and good-natured dwarf if there ever was one. He was asking for volunteers to try to break the siege and slay the orcish leader as to shatter the enemy's morale. Please, be not concerned, I have thought before I made that choice, but I found it a worthy cause, and so it came to pass that I fought side by side with the king! He is a great warrior, and his prowess in combat is impressive. I am still in awe about our victory there, and have thanked lady Sehanine for her smiling upon us.
King Bruenor truly is a great man, and I esteem him highly. He has recently sent two others (among them Bradaan Thunderbelly, a dwarven priest of Clangeddin with whom I have travelled much) and me as envoys to the Ironstars in the daleslands, as to enlist support to free the legendary dwarven home Sunderhelme. I accepted his bid gladly, as I feel what a moving dream Sunderhelme is to the northern dwarvenkind, and I felt that my help with something like that would not be wasted - valuable allies to the free people are the dwarves of clan Battlehammer!
Alas, also ill news have I to present to you. I am almost reluctant to tell you, yet I will not start to hold things back from you. My heart is shadowed greatly, but I lost father's armor. O mother, I feared you might be mad to learn this, but then, I realized you would not be - that you would merely be disappointed, a thought that is not easier to bear for me!
You will want to learn of the circumstances, and here I will present them. I will cut this short - I fell to evil sorcery of a cursed lake, and was held captive by a dragon. Gluenoewoehfalki, the White Mother, is her name, and savage and cruel like her kind she is. In her clutches I were, and in her hoard, I fear, still lie my blade, shield and father's armor.
Days have I been held captive, and I felt despair creeping into my heart, having only a small rocky island in a cave of icy water. Thus, I made a flask post and tossed it into the current out - if it has ever gone out of the cave, the way was sealed for me, too cold and icy was the water for me to swim for long. Only from time to time the dragon came, and it offered me a grim choice: I should betray my friends and work for her, accepting a spell to bind me to fulfill a deal to bring her items of great dragon slaying power. Else, I would meet my end.
O mother, can you imagine the blackness that was in my heart? Long have I thought, and looking back in hindsight, I wonder how the dragon had the patience to let me think.
A spell, she said. Was it not that every spell could be broken? That somehow, if I accepted, I could be saved? That I could agree and try to find a way out of the bind?
But then, I thought - no matter the intentions, I would agree to betray my friends, if only temporarily, and under dire circumstances, facing death. But, o mother, is it not that if I were willing to betray my friends and those I hold dear, even if in such a situation, would then my life not be forfeit? Is it not that betrayal and treason both run deeper than death? And so I decided. I refused the dragon's offer.
Great was her rage, but still, she would not kill me. Time, she said, would break my will. And so I sat, for more hours, or days - the reckoning of time had long eluded my mind. Desperate I was, and slowly calming, accepting the fate that I could not see a way to avoid. I prayed often, but in the end, I did not really have the strength left to do so.
And there, dragon younglings already gathered on the shore of the cave, obviously enjoying my misery. But yet, beloved mother, even in a place as dark as a dragon's cave, a small glimpse of light may shine, and hope may blossom. Over long hours, and with a terrible ordeal that I thought I had not the patience for, I managed to befriend one of the younglings. The weakest of the brood, being mocked and molested by his brothers. Iciinggitirieyiees, icy death, was his name, but pity for me grew in his heart, as I may have been the only creature that ever treated him gentle. Chocolate I gave him, and with my "puny magics" - what the dragon had given back to me, to mock me - I managed to impress him, heal him, aid him and ease his being. His savage nature I could not overcome, but I could stir compassion in him, and I think that with more time and in another place, he could develop a kind heart. Alas, I lack your wisdom, mother, so maybe I am mistaken.
But, o light be praised, it was him to rescue me! Perhaps because of pity, perhaps because he would not want me to be eaten (since he would not get a bite from me), perhaps a mixture or the latter used as excuse to conceal the first, he decided to help me. O mother, beloved teacher and idol, can you believe it? He would risk punishment and the wrath of his mother in freeing me. I promised from the deepest of my heart to try to find a way to help him, to bring him to another place, to try what was in my might. Sad was our parting, for I feared for him, so much that it even overshadowed the joy of being free again!
I have not seen him since, although I went searching for him. Sir Bradaan Thunderbelly, the dwarf I wrote earlier in this letter, will help me in this task (in fact, he is one of the truest friends one could wish for), and I have not given up hope to help the youngling, and to reclaim father's armor.
Speaking of which, mother, have I wrote to you about Aeluren yet? It just strikes me that I think I have not. Again I think you will be surprised, as I myself am, reflecting it now. But, ach, the light of the stars is already vaning outside, and morning is coming all too quick. Too quick - I fear I have begun to reckon in days rather than tendays now, and I wonder, will I become as hasty as men are? Thinking in hours, and parts of them?
Well, beloved mother, I will conclude this letter now, by telling you once more how much my love for you only has grown since we departed. Joyous will be the day when I can feel your warm embrace again, and somehow it will be the greatest reward I could wish for.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
5
O beloved mother!
Long have been my nights, and many have been my tears.
Forever they seemed to run down over my cheeks, and even the light of the stars held no power of soothing for me.
O, the grim cynism, that just as I wanted to share my joy with you, it has been taken from me, forever, with a finality that I fear is breaking me. Let me try to ease my burden by explaining to you, although yet, every single word written only freshens the pain, and in agony and tears I am writing – already I had to toss away my first letter, as the ink was blurred by my tears.
At least, for you to know how moved I am, eases it for you to understand, and to allay your fears. The one I have lost, mother, was beloved to me, in no comparison to the love I hold for you. Yet – I held her very dearly, and in the end, I never felt such a joy to have her, to hold her in my arms, or as was more often the case, to be held in hers. I can imagine your surprise now, but I will not even try to hide anything from you, o my dear mother. The one I am writing about, Aeluren, was of Ilythiiri blood.
Worry not, mother, for you see I am unharmed! Only my heart is wounded, and it is bleeding, bleeding for her loss, her that I loved. She was kind and gentle, much like you, and her smile was so pleasant, her hands so tender, her eyes so deep, I was lost in them o so often. Mother! Beloved mother mine! I grieve! I mourn! My pain is far beyond description, and my loss the gravest, one I could not imagine to ever suffer.
I just had to pause, please apologize should my thoughts from here on not be stringent. I trust you know I had to cry again, and you know how much I would have wished for the comfort of your arms and your soothing words. It would have soothed me greatly – but please, do not feel insulted, it would not have been enough to fill the deep void that her passing left. Let me put down a simple song I wrote for her service, with great honour it was held in the halls of the mistress Faralune, the hand of the lady Selune:
The sign that shone above us was
the white and peaceful dove.
Where once suspicious mistrust grew
in the end, was love.
No more will your tender hands
in those of mine I hold.
No more will the veils of love
so soft around us fold.
When your eyes met gaze of mine
‘t was like our souls would meld.
Never again can be replaced
What for you I felt.
The love that grew between us was
as brilliant as the moon
The moon also your mistress was
you went to her too soon.
It seems the world has darkened now
but you, you may now rest.
While I, for now, I must remain.
Don’t know if this is best.
Excuse me, but I cannot go on writing about her. Too bitter and fresh is the memory still, and if I go into details, I need your arms wrapped around me, cradling me. Perhaps I should never have left. It would have saved me the pain of seeing so many pass. Although, reflecting, another part of me says than I would not have met them either – but my heart is heavy, trying to weigh which counts more.
Let me try to find something merrier now of which to tell you. I am not sure, perhaps you know it already, but folly, folly and a strange, cold longing for death led me to not only get the help for king Bruenor he requested to rout Narfenzengul the Black, but, furthermore, be with the group that was tasked to end his reign over the bowels of Sunderhelme. Do not ask yourself whether you should not have taught me better – you did. Part in me never wished to undertake that risk, this foolish venture to attack a dragon in its lair. But, grim and bitter have I been, and would not have the starry fields of mistress Moonbow been a relief from all the burdens? She is the mistress of our journeys – all of our journeys, even the ultimate one.
Yet it seems, my longing for death has brought not only death to Narfenzengul the Black, but also life to one of our company. Without spells of protection, he dared to challenge the wits of the beast, as humans sometimes do out of their fascination for things great and powerful as a dragon. The dragon did not negotiate at all, it demanded, although we were a dedicated group, and our spirits firm. Your lessons, although they failed to keep me from this dark place and fell battle, nevertheless were still in my mind: and the mageling did not even have a basic spell of protection cast. I feared the dragon’s foul odem would end his existance in an instance. And so I focussed his attention on me.
The battle did not last long, but it was fierce on both sides, and pain nearly knocked me off my feet. But, the mighty beast fell before us, and victory was ours to claim.
I am ever so grateful for the Moonbow to have decided my time had not come for her final journey. After all, I would have passed without seeing you again in this realm.
So many pass, as I come to think. Good friends, or people unknown, and even enemies. The world is more dangerous than I ever could have thought, and evil is stirring whereever one puts one’s gaze. Only in these circumstances have I come to think what a privilege it has been, to grow up in Clearwater Glade, secluded and shielded, with the wisest, gentlest and most beloved teacher one could ever wish for. You know how much I miss you, mother, and I think I will soon not anymore be able to withstand my longing for home and your company.
Also, I grow weary of the realms of men. They change ever so fast, never to last, and the few that do and I can call friends are indeed numbered all too easily. I hope I do not show the arrogance you warned me about our race was prone to, but also, I feel they are weak. Not by strength, for they have many who are greater in power than I am, but by character. Some of them not only fastly succumb to corruption, no, it even seems some of them seek it out. And it happens so fast, so fast, without means to stop it or for redemption, or alas, without means for my limited power. But one should strive not for power, you have taught me, and with suspicion and alertness I watched this wish in me, and have fought it. Have I ever told you of Brand Aesgir? He was one human whom I wished I had the power to save. But even his former god did not have that strength.
I met him as he was a paladin of Ilmater. He was gentle and caring, full of compassion for those around him, and never would he hesitate to offer his assistance. Yes, he was an example of helpfulness and care. But, o misery! His heart was befallen by an evil, and I, mother, only furthered it, by myself falling for the trickery of an axe of evil power, that lured me to be given to him. Why did I ever yield! It made the wish appear as my own, and had I known! I have failed that day, and how would I have needed your insight, your wisdom! The power of the axe, having found an adequate bearer of similar evil, put him beyond reach for any redemption.
In the sad end, he was convicted and tried for the murder of a guardsman in the dalelands. Guilt is nagging at me, especially since the axe has slipped again, and I cannot even avenge his demise by banning the curse of the axe forever. Crimson Edge is its name – I trust you will know more about it than I do, who had to travel to Candlekeep to at least find out some things about it. I will not taint this letter by capturing the evil in it in words written.
As for now, I need to try to rest again. Writing to you has calmed me, although still the wish for your warmth and your gentle being is overwhelming. But I need to rest now. Tomorrow I need to travel to the Hawk’s Nest, an old tower fortress for which I have been charged with the task of overseeing its rebuilt. A responsible endeavour, and I hope I can prove to be worthy of the trust that was put in me.
Waxing away is the starlight, and few are the hours remaining. I will write to you again soon, o dear mother. May the stars grace you with their beauty, may their light be your glistening cloak wherever you tread.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
6
Your graciousness Kelddath Ormlyr,
I did not write you sooner, for pride kept me from doing so. Pride, of which it is said my people is prone to, yet in the benevolent light of the stars that my goddess has sown upon the black velvet of the nightskies, I found in myself the seeds of wisdom that were planted by my beloved mother to shed it off.
Now, what remains, is disappointment, and sadness. I always knew you as a man of great wisdom, of a kind and gentle soul, yet with vigilance towards that what was his to protect. Perhaps in the ever turbulent realms of men I gave my judgment too soon, yet I sincerely hope I am not mistaken. Please be not be offended by my thoughts, for if you are the man I think I came to know you as, you will value my honesty.
But let me come to the point, for the elaborations of my kin must seem wearying and long-winded to those of other races.
I am disappointed about what ways you took of late. I have known you as a man valueing peace and trade, as both guarantee a prosperous and happy future for those living in these harsh borderlands. And yet, when you call for champions to defend Candlekeep, you chose slave-traders and talona-tainted murderers as your tower and fortress, while those that helped you address the threat of these very former, have to be out in the wilds hiding their friends and loved ones from the very people you entrusted with the defense of the great library.
As I said, my pride I have shed, and I am not upset for that you forget the help we did you in many dark hours, and I am not upset that you reward those that would oppose you and those that helped you against them, for maybe it shows that you are forgiving and generous. But, I am disappointed, and I cannot help but sense the nagging feeling of perceived injustice, that has bitten its very tooth into my mind. And, to a part, although I would not want to question your wisdom, I am afraid, and do not know whether I should not yell out aloud in alarm. That that whom you set free conspires with slave-traders and criminals now, that the very slave-trader teaches in your academy and those that pervert the values you stood for gain more and more hold upon your city and its people.
Revered Ormlyr, I bade Gelcur some time ago to let me assist him with the safekeeping of the city, for it seemed something worthwile. I am not sure whether I should not revoke my request, for I cannot identify with a town that foregoes its former friends to ease the way to the very ones that threatened its tranquility, and will continue to do so. As I said, I bear you no ill-will, and I feel not insult nor anger anymore, but the feeling that remains within me troubles me much more. It is that of frustration and desperation, the feeling whether it can be prudent to pursue to want to see law, order and justice, in peace and prosperity, when actions such as this take place.
I am concerned, your graciousness, for my mistress has not revealed her veils before my vision what may lie ahead in the future, and all apparent signs I see around me point to the conclusion that those that hoped to see to equitableness and the rule of law, that those are not welcome nor needed in your parts.
With respectful regards
Aszûne Whisperwind
7
Beloved mother,
beloved mother veiled forever in the grace of the stars, clad in the cloak of moonlight the Daughter of Nightskies has laid upon your shoulders as garment.
Far too long has been the time since last I wrote to you, and I would not know what words of apology, what bindings of feelings with ink on paper I could attempt to express how much I wish to beg your pardon for that. To think alone of what anguish and uncertainty I might have caused you further burdens my heart with guilt, despite my knowledge of your ever-forgiving kindness, which makes me feel you will forgive me, as you have always done, be I deserving of it or not. For you are my mother, and I am your daughter, bound in love to you perpetually.
The winds of time are changing around me, and I could not even start to try to write down all that has transpired, all things that happened to me, or all deeds that I did, all hardship endured, all joy felt. I am slipping, o mother, slipping into an uncertainty and doubt I never so have experienced. Solace I only find in the numbing cold, in the thought of you and in the certainty of the love of our Goddess, who will not abandon us – ever.
I have found love again, though this one has lost the innocence and destined determination. My heart is aching still with the loss of Aeluren, beloved Aeluren, whose arms gave shelter and whose smile gave comfort. O mother, I miss her still! With every thread of the fabric of my very soul, I am yearning for her touch and smile and caress and voice and laughter!
This new love is not as untainted. Not as complete, not woven with the innocence and gentle surety. It is of pride, of rivalry, of pain, of loss and of strife. Ever is she burdened. When I need to speak, she holds, when I need to be held, she loves, and when I need to be loved, she speaks. And still, I cannot help but love her, while my heart is bleeding.
And the call of the Most Exalted, of our Great Lady and Mistress is pulling on me. The moon circling above shines her light with a clarity I have never before experienced, despite all her glorious grace, and I cannot else than bow my head in humility and do her calling. I should be happy, and I am, for what merrier thing could there be than to be called by the Daughter of the Nightskies, to serve her will and be her hand and love her as I love you.
But for all love I have and feel, for all the comfort in the thought of the stars above, there is sorrow. Petty sorrow, perhaps, which I would need to shed like tears that sparkle in a pool that after they have fallen all the more brightly reflects the face of the stars and moon, but sorrow still that is numbing me.
The mighty halls of Sunderhelme have fallen. Where was I when they fell? On an errant of the king, sure, but would it not have been my duty as Stewardess to be there, and if necessary, fall in the first line? I know not what happened there in full. And I can only try to close my heart from hate when I think that with only kinslayer and his band, seven of the towns that were once home to me, where the fell evil of Amythyzul was defeated, seven of these towns were ruined and destroyed. Plague has ravaged the lands in which you once sent a mirage of your soothing presence. Maybe I could not have changed it. And whenever I think of it I feel the rage in my heart, the pure boiling hate, and my hands try to clutch the stars to bring me comfort.
The Faenor Bital of Berronar will announce me Warden of Light. I think she honours my pledge, but I feel part is to comfort me, to give me the faith chamber to cling on. I do not know whether I shall accept. I should, but I am torn, and my heart is broken like the seal that once held He Who Has Not Yet Come. The elven rune of binding. It is not a poetical thought to think when it was shattered, so was my heart, my being, my existance? Only to slowly wane, to fade away with time and in evergrowing sorrow, as everything is slipping my grasp, and I cannot hold back anymore what I wish to.
I love you.
There are rumors of a great shadow having set foot in the Anauroch. Even an ultimatum to the High Lady of Silverymoon was made, and again my heart is split. It was her who refused my sword when I willingly offered it, twice, and yet it was her whom I had admired like a divine being among mortals, like a lady worthy of fealty, a cause to fight for and defend, her wisdom and benevolence and generosity. What have I become, if pride gives me pause to travel there at once and offer my sword again, without thought? Why should I care to travel and act as an mercenary or soldier of fortune or adventurer. The nation of Luruar would take my service, and even without recognition once again, I could help.
Maybe it is an excuse, and maybe it is a sign of the uncertainty that has devoured my heart, is devouring it still. But I shall rest this decision with the council of dreams, within the tangled paths of reverie the Moonbow commands. She saved the inn of friendly arms. Did I write you of this? No. No I did not, for I have not written you in a long time, and again I apologize, beloved mother, lady next to my heart just after the Goddess that has sown the twinkling light for us to follow. It was a vision before my eyes, a revelation of her shrouds, that allowed me to pierce the web of deceit that was covering the plans of the enemy, which here was the spider queen herself, whose name I shall not spell for all her bloated madness. Yet, praise the Moonbow!, for the can be no shrouds she cannot withdraw. And back she rolled them, and as I descended beneath, to the vile and dark threat in the catacomps below, I left my shield and sword and only gripped the staff that a friend who passed once held. Fierce was the battle, and I was alone. No, I have to correct that. With me was the Goddess, and her shrouding veils proteced me against foe and fear, against hardship and horror.
I shall not enumerate all the foes I slew that day. Let it be known that it was scores of foul spider spawn and horrifying chimeras bound with the body of an Ilythiir, capable of deeds of magic, yet enraged with the madness their twisted, accursed form must have brought them. Their prowess in battle was great, and grievious wounds I suffered, as still the mosst direst of threats only lay before me after I slew their king. Out of a chasm in the ground, the most gargantuan spider I could ever in all shock and horror imagine crawled, larger still than the lumbering beast of a small house we slew in Waterdeep some years earlier! It was bloated, gigantic, unbelievably ugly, and I thought I would die just from looking at it. But, such relief was not given to me. And chittering and spewing poisonous goo from its claws, it assailed me, with all wrath the spider queen herself would have imbued into a creature which must have been the most precious thing to her! It was a miracle my staff did not sunder, and nothing but the cloak of faith the Moonbow granted me could explain how the mithril of king Bruenor’s plate held off her vicious mandibles. It was the most terrible battle I ever have faced, for there was only wrath, and again and again I let the wooden shaft clobber at her legs, fangs and eyes. Until finally, as I felt the last of my strength leaving me, they finally went dim, and the beast fell back into the abyss it crawled from. And with it, the whole complex of a cavernous catacomb began to crunch and crumble, crushing pieces of rocks all about me. I dragged myself out somehow, one of her giant attack legs that has broken off as trophy thrust to the gnome who found and healed me.
The little hamlet shall in future hold a statue to Sehanine to praise her saving of it, to thank the love an elven goddess can bring to a settlement of men, just because one of her people had set foot there. O endless is her generosity!
But alas, I see I am already finishing up the third page of paper. So much I have still told. So much I have to tell still. I will need to visit you soon, o mother, I would long so much to feel your arms, to hold you close to me and not let go until hunger or thirst set in. I love you. I wish I could say and write something more true, something more powerful than that. But then I realize, beloved mother, that surely you know what I feel for you, what I must feel for you, for how could I repay all your kindess with anything less than total and complete love, without compromise nor hesitation?
I love you, from the deepest of my heart, mind and soul.
Yours forever in love
Aszûne
1
Beloved mother,
may the light of the stars grace you with its beauty, as it has always done.
I know that you are not worried, for I have been away only three years now, but yet, it almost appears to me as if time and events pass faster in the realms of men. As you may recall, beloved mother, I just wanted to see the city of Loudwater. Yet, my journeys have brought me farther than I would have imagined in such a short time. But mistress Moonbow oversees the journeys of our kin too, you taught me, so do not be worried.
I miss you, as I miss home. Every night when I see up to the stars, I wish I were back with you, with the lovely glades, the waterfalls that sparkle in the moonlight, the trees with the stars sown like glittering jewels amid their branching hair, with the morning mists like a cloak of velvet and silk gently caressing your legs with each very step you take, the ponds in which the stars of mistress Moonbows' heaven fields are mirrored thousandfold. It confuses me, but I miss Clearwater Glade more than I thought I would.
Beloved mother, I wish to tell you my deepest appreciation for the present you sent me. I know that you never wanted me to wear it, and thus I am only all the more grateful that you had father's armor refit for me. It has kept me safe since I donned it. That is, I donned only after, I hesitate to tell you as not to stir more concern in you, after I fell in battle. It is a grim tale, and my heart is reluctant to tell you written about it. Just be assured that I am well, as far as I can tell you.
Many places have I seen, and I was involved in many things that were way above me. Too many to recount within a limited letter. I know you taught me patience, beloved mother, yet I cannot await to see you again to tell you everything in detail, and to feel the warm embrace of your arms again, and to listen to your words soothing and beautiful, and to marvel the moon and the stars with you again. I want to tell you that I am sincerely grateful for everything you strove to plant as wisdom in my mind. Many a time it has preserved me from fell evil.
The lesser races confuse me. They seem to be striving to achieve, but too hasty to do so with thought and to sustain it, and their ambitions resemble greed in my eyes, and they seem to be always lacking time. I fear my words sound arrogant, and I still have made good friends with some of them. In fact, I reside within the city of Silverymoon at the moment, and the mistress of that city, the High Lady Alustriel, alone would be enough to counter every prejudice one might have about men. She is beautiful and wise, yet with a stern dedication. I was allowed to see her two times now, and another time I saw her at a great festival with many a minstrel and singing and joy and merrymaking, and everytime I thought, pardon my words, one of the Seladrine was standing before me! I could not lift my eyes to look at her properly, even though she told me to. I admire her deeply.
Alas, but also I have made contact with the Ilythiiri, and the reality was even more frightening than every story I read could have been. Their warriors fight with great skill and might, while their mages and priests hold power too terrible and large to be recounted properly. My friends call me hero for those encounters, where I fought alongside with them, and they claim I managed to save some of them. Yet, I do not feel it, as I tremble in mortal fear at only the very thought of facing them again, and I wish for mistress Moonbow to weave her shrouding veils to conceal and protect me from having to do so.
I apologize that I cannot write more and in more detail now, but my time is quick. I admit that is something I am not used to, so please excuse when I wrote too little or too much concerning some topics. I have to study now, as I will have to pass tests within this coming tenday, and I would not want to fail. Those tests are the initiation to become a knight in silver, a guard for the city of Silverymoon, as I have aspired to become. Or rather, have been recruited to. I thought keeping in shape, while trying to do good things in helping the city, would be the right course to take.
I hope I do not appear immodest to you, my beloved mother, but yet I am not really content. They are named knights, but all they do is standing around guarding doors, or patrolling the streets for people loitering too near to temples, or for muggers and bandits. I do not want you to get the wrong impression, I have the deepest respect for that work, and I am convinced it is an honour to be allowed those tests, especially since it appears elves, and females, are very few among their ranks. I have not met either so far in service to the city.
But still, I do not feel that guarding a gate or patrolling streets is something I would feel happy with. That stirs me greatly, for I do not know the source of this discontent, and I question my modesty and to be as humble as you have told me to be. Here it is, the chance for a great honour and to do good, and yet I hesitate and feel I would want to do something else.
O how I enjoyed traversing the desert on an errand put upon my shoulders by the High Lady Alustriel, due to a letter the lady Mhair Szeltune of Waterdeep gave me! It was a perilous journey, and dangerous, especially as I travelled back only with sir Greymantle, a wizard, as company. But yet, I felt such a feeling of achievement, as we arrived, though weary and wounded, but safe in Silverymoon again! I had succeeded in that dangerous task, and I was proud not to have failed the wishes of the High Lady.
But I feel my thoughts are straying, beloved mother, and the light of the stars is quickly waning as I write. I will have to rest and to prepare for more studies, as everything will happen so soon.
My thoughts are with you, and I miss you and Clearwater Glade as I would miss the rays of the moon and the twinkling starlight.
I pray to mistress Moonbow to lift her veils before my path, while shrouding me to travel it safely, and I hope from the deepest of my heart to see you again.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
2
Beloved mother,
may the virtue and the grace of the stars embrace and shroud you like a veiling cloak woven of mistress Moonbow's power and generosity.
Alas, my thoughts are in turmoil, and uncertainty boils within me. Did I write you I was scheduled for my trials to become a knight in silver? Those have been postponed two times, and now I am even suspended from duty for reasons and incidents I yet have not come to fully understand.
I have to admit that desperate anger and frustration have had a firm hold of me, and every night I prayed and tried to remember your kindness and calmness, and found comfort within the soothing memories of you.
Beloved mother, what is it that a knight does? Is it to follow orders and abide strictly, without thoughts, to a code of laws? Is it not that a knight protects the innocent and weak as he is able to? Is it not that the greater good is all that he bows to, that his dedication to do good, his chivalry, his honour and his humility should be without par? Is it not that he strives to prevent evil at every cost necessary, yet with as little cost as possible?
Oh, pray, mother, I wish for your wisdom, I wish for your insight and your soft and soothing words whispered whenever I despaired or was thrown into doubts and fears! My heart is in uproar, and my soul does not even find rest wandering the realms of our dreams. Is it this way that it should end? Am I not worthy to pledge my cause as she, the High Lady, had wished for? The city would need me, she said, and yet, by accepting means of deception - is it not mistress Moonbow who uses her illusions to protect from evil? - in trying to obtain information to save the citizens of the Silvermarches, I was thought to be unsuiting to serve the city. Have I done something wrong? Is it I who am to blame? Oh, had I have had any idea what my friends planned, or how it would end, I would have objected! But, alas, it is as it is.
And to complicate everything, another burden has been placed upon my shoulders, a burden I am not sure whether I can be the one to carry it. You know the vast forests of Cormanthyr, in the lands referred to as "the dales" now, that our people long ago gave to the humans, as the treaty of the standing stones still holds witness to?
A fierce black dragon was slain there a time ago, a dragon, that hundreds of years ago, destroyed and incinerated one of the holy sites of our people. I was allowed to enter among one of the first into that sacred grove, and together with a priest of our great king Corellon, I gathered the bones of our long dead kin, their bones scorched white or black by the dragons fire.
Yet, the people of the dales cavort openly with the Ilythiiri, and even give them shelter, inviting them to their holy ceremonies! Thus, The-silent-falling-Leaf, one of our wild kin, decided to defend the grove at all cost - he was the former guardian. Now he reckoned he placed himself into dire peril fighting the Ilythiiri and their human and dwarven allies, and thus... he trusted me the skull of Calduil, which opens the enchanted, impenetrable gate to the grove.
I, mother, I hold that key, and am obliged to safeguard it. I will do so using the veils of mistress Moonbow, and noone knows that in fact I am hiding it. May the illusions of our mistress protect and shroud me and keep me safe from harm, fulfilling the duty tha has been given to me.
Oh mother, beloved teacher and guardian, if only I held your wisdom and certainty to decide what is right and what is wrong. If only I had your strength and power, but I have not, and I do not know whether I ever can grow to become worthy of everything you saw in me.
Your trust and your love is the only certainty I do have in these days, and of course the light of the stars shining overhead. Sometimes I wish I could be one of them, sown by mistress Moonbow to grant guidance and a glittering sparkle of hope for the travellers lost in deepest night.
My thoughts are with you, and while I feel like the young foliage in the forest, my love for you resembles the eternal rock beneath.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
3
To the High Lady Alustriel of Silverymoon, chosen of Mystra and ruler of the confederacy of the Silvermarches, also known as the nation of Luruar
*
Most deeply admired High Lady,
I do hope with all my heart and soul that my letter to you does not offend you.
I am all convinced there are things more important to you, and thus I will keep this brief. But, to me, it is of great importance to do what I wanted to with this letter -
to apologize to you, o respected and admired High Lady. I fear that in my confusion - as indeed the things you revealed to me where a striking surprise - I may have not always shown the respect and demeanour that would have been appropriate.
For my defense, I can only offer my youth, and the way my kind perceives the passing of time, which makes your revelation all so more drastic and shocking in the eyes of one of my kin.
Still, I can only bid you, true with heart and mind and longing for it sincerely, to forgive me.
Also, please, let none of what I may have done wrong shed a bad light upon sir Starhalls, he only posessed the generosity to accompany me as I bade him; it is his wish for me to stress that we are not on friendly terms and he would wish to have nothing to do with me. I am sure you will not let my presence that day influence your regards of him.
I hope for your kind heart and mildness to accept the apology I hereby humbly offer.
May the guiding smile of your goddess always shine upon you.
Yours faithfully,
Aszûne Whisperwind
4
Beloved mother,
may the starry light of mistress Moonbow's nightsky embrace you, as it ever has.
Again I feel the need to write to you, and indeed many more things have I beheld. O mother, I am troubled greatly by the grim tidings that I see wherever I put my gaze in this world - evil is stirring, darkness is rising, and ever grow those fewer that stand against it. And even if they do, they are seperated.
In fact, I have come to hold the dwarves in great respect for that. They posess honour and courage, and a stout-hearted dedication many could look up on, despite the dwarven size. Also, I greatly admire their feeling of kinship to each other. They are hospitable and helpful, and their hearts are generous, no matter the tales about their greed. Yes, I would have to admit that they have even offered warmer welcomes to me than others of my own kin!
Most deeply impressed I was by king Bruenor of clan Battlehammer, whom I had the honour to meet in the frozen north. Speaking of which, o how lovely your mirage was! O mother, never had I hoped to receive such a token of your goodwill, and I was nearly crying of joy, so moved was I by your gesture! My deepest thanks for your spell, mother, it was a gift much enjoyed, and one I am most grateful for.
Excuse me from straying. I did not want to start the letter again, so I will let it stand as it is, and continue now.
As I was writing, high up in the region of the ten towns I happened to meet king Bruenor. The frozen north is a beautiful land. Savage and harsh, yet somehow, it is soothing to the eye and mind, and the freezing cold is cleansing, when you have grown accustomed to it.
But, even there a dark shadow has befallen the land. In no other place so far I have felt the urgency and the need of help, and no matter how small it is what I can ever, yet I do feel I have pledged part of my heart to that land. Perhaps it is that I am growing up, beloved mother - I feel that somehow, my admiration for the High Lady is vaning. Not my respect, but perhaps my deep admiring of her was child-like. Looking up to some idol. Yet, I have realized that she probably will never recognize me or hold me in a high regard, I am just a knight to her - and not even one of her best, I fear, as I do not excel at a guard's duty, I am afraid. I think it was vain and foolish to hope to achieve her goodwill and regards.
Yet, in the frozen norths, I felt like I could actually do something. O, mother, how bright our spirits were burning as we assailed the very gates of Stormhold! I know you might deem such actions folly, but it was born out of passion and a moment - and did you not say to trust one's own heart? Fierce the battle ensued, only us, a group of adventurers, against the unleashed might of Stormhold, orcs and ogres abundant. Great losses we inflicted to the darkness, and none of us fell, until finally we had to retreat! Truly, mistress Moonbow must have smiled upon us, since her veils granted us such protection.
Great was the fury of the lords of Stormhold, and in fact, we found ourselves under siege as we were in the halls of clan Battlehammer. There it was that I met king Bruenor, righteous heir to mithril halls. He is a gruff and good-natured dwarf if there ever was one. He was asking for volunteers to try to break the siege and slay the orcish leader as to shatter the enemy's morale. Please, be not concerned, I have thought before I made that choice, but I found it a worthy cause, and so it came to pass that I fought side by side with the king! He is a great warrior, and his prowess in combat is impressive. I am still in awe about our victory there, and have thanked lady Sehanine for her smiling upon us.
King Bruenor truly is a great man, and I esteem him highly. He has recently sent two others (among them Bradaan Thunderbelly, a dwarven priest of Clangeddin with whom I have travelled much) and me as envoys to the Ironstars in the daleslands, as to enlist support to free the legendary dwarven home Sunderhelme. I accepted his bid gladly, as I feel what a moving dream Sunderhelme is to the northern dwarvenkind, and I felt that my help with something like that would not be wasted - valuable allies to the free people are the dwarves of clan Battlehammer!
Alas, also ill news have I to present to you. I am almost reluctant to tell you, yet I will not start to hold things back from you. My heart is shadowed greatly, but I lost father's armor. O mother, I feared you might be mad to learn this, but then, I realized you would not be - that you would merely be disappointed, a thought that is not easier to bear for me!
You will want to learn of the circumstances, and here I will present them. I will cut this short - I fell to evil sorcery of a cursed lake, and was held captive by a dragon. Gluenoewoehfalki, the White Mother, is her name, and savage and cruel like her kind she is. In her clutches I were, and in her hoard, I fear, still lie my blade, shield and father's armor.
Days have I been held captive, and I felt despair creeping into my heart, having only a small rocky island in a cave of icy water. Thus, I made a flask post and tossed it into the current out - if it has ever gone out of the cave, the way was sealed for me, too cold and icy was the water for me to swim for long. Only from time to time the dragon came, and it offered me a grim choice: I should betray my friends and work for her, accepting a spell to bind me to fulfill a deal to bring her items of great dragon slaying power. Else, I would meet my end.
O mother, can you imagine the blackness that was in my heart? Long have I thought, and looking back in hindsight, I wonder how the dragon had the patience to let me think.
A spell, she said. Was it not that every spell could be broken? That somehow, if I accepted, I could be saved? That I could agree and try to find a way out of the bind?
But then, I thought - no matter the intentions, I would agree to betray my friends, if only temporarily, and under dire circumstances, facing death. But, o mother, is it not that if I were willing to betray my friends and those I hold dear, even if in such a situation, would then my life not be forfeit? Is it not that betrayal and treason both run deeper than death? And so I decided. I refused the dragon's offer.
Great was her rage, but still, she would not kill me. Time, she said, would break my will. And so I sat, for more hours, or days - the reckoning of time had long eluded my mind. Desperate I was, and slowly calming, accepting the fate that I could not see a way to avoid. I prayed often, but in the end, I did not really have the strength left to do so.
And there, dragon younglings already gathered on the shore of the cave, obviously enjoying my misery. But yet, beloved mother, even in a place as dark as a dragon's cave, a small glimpse of light may shine, and hope may blossom. Over long hours, and with a terrible ordeal that I thought I had not the patience for, I managed to befriend one of the younglings. The weakest of the brood, being mocked and molested by his brothers. Iciinggitirieyiees, icy death, was his name, but pity for me grew in his heart, as I may have been the only creature that ever treated him gentle. Chocolate I gave him, and with my "puny magics" - what the dragon had given back to me, to mock me - I managed to impress him, heal him, aid him and ease his being. His savage nature I could not overcome, but I could stir compassion in him, and I think that with more time and in another place, he could develop a kind heart. Alas, I lack your wisdom, mother, so maybe I am mistaken.
But, o light be praised, it was him to rescue me! Perhaps because of pity, perhaps because he would not want me to be eaten (since he would not get a bite from me), perhaps a mixture or the latter used as excuse to conceal the first, he decided to help me. O mother, beloved teacher and idol, can you believe it? He would risk punishment and the wrath of his mother in freeing me. I promised from the deepest of my heart to try to find a way to help him, to bring him to another place, to try what was in my might. Sad was our parting, for I feared for him, so much that it even overshadowed the joy of being free again!
I have not seen him since, although I went searching for him. Sir Bradaan Thunderbelly, the dwarf I wrote earlier in this letter, will help me in this task (in fact, he is one of the truest friends one could wish for), and I have not given up hope to help the youngling, and to reclaim father's armor.
Speaking of which, mother, have I wrote to you about Aeluren yet? It just strikes me that I think I have not. Again I think you will be surprised, as I myself am, reflecting it now. But, ach, the light of the stars is already vaning outside, and morning is coming all too quick. Too quick - I fear I have begun to reckon in days rather than tendays now, and I wonder, will I become as hasty as men are? Thinking in hours, and parts of them?
Well, beloved mother, I will conclude this letter now, by telling you once more how much my love for you only has grown since we departed. Joyous will be the day when I can feel your warm embrace again, and somehow it will be the greatest reward I could wish for.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
5
O beloved mother!
Long have been my nights, and many have been my tears.
Forever they seemed to run down over my cheeks, and even the light of the stars held no power of soothing for me.
O, the grim cynism, that just as I wanted to share my joy with you, it has been taken from me, forever, with a finality that I fear is breaking me. Let me try to ease my burden by explaining to you, although yet, every single word written only freshens the pain, and in agony and tears I am writing – already I had to toss away my first letter, as the ink was blurred by my tears.
At least, for you to know how moved I am, eases it for you to understand, and to allay your fears. The one I have lost, mother, was beloved to me, in no comparison to the love I hold for you. Yet – I held her very dearly, and in the end, I never felt such a joy to have her, to hold her in my arms, or as was more often the case, to be held in hers. I can imagine your surprise now, but I will not even try to hide anything from you, o my dear mother. The one I am writing about, Aeluren, was of Ilythiiri blood.
Worry not, mother, for you see I am unharmed! Only my heart is wounded, and it is bleeding, bleeding for her loss, her that I loved. She was kind and gentle, much like you, and her smile was so pleasant, her hands so tender, her eyes so deep, I was lost in them o so often. Mother! Beloved mother mine! I grieve! I mourn! My pain is far beyond description, and my loss the gravest, one I could not imagine to ever suffer.
I just had to pause, please apologize should my thoughts from here on not be stringent. I trust you know I had to cry again, and you know how much I would have wished for the comfort of your arms and your soothing words. It would have soothed me greatly – but please, do not feel insulted, it would not have been enough to fill the deep void that her passing left. Let me put down a simple song I wrote for her service, with great honour it was held in the halls of the mistress Faralune, the hand of the lady Selune:
The sign that shone above us was
the white and peaceful dove.
Where once suspicious mistrust grew
in the end, was love.
No more will your tender hands
in those of mine I hold.
No more will the veils of love
so soft around us fold.
When your eyes met gaze of mine
‘t was like our souls would meld.
Never again can be replaced
What for you I felt.
The love that grew between us was
as brilliant as the moon
The moon also your mistress was
you went to her too soon.
It seems the world has darkened now
but you, you may now rest.
While I, for now, I must remain.
Don’t know if this is best.
Excuse me, but I cannot go on writing about her. Too bitter and fresh is the memory still, and if I go into details, I need your arms wrapped around me, cradling me. Perhaps I should never have left. It would have saved me the pain of seeing so many pass. Although, reflecting, another part of me says than I would not have met them either – but my heart is heavy, trying to weigh which counts more.
Let me try to find something merrier now of which to tell you. I am not sure, perhaps you know it already, but folly, folly and a strange, cold longing for death led me to not only get the help for king Bruenor he requested to rout Narfenzengul the Black, but, furthermore, be with the group that was tasked to end his reign over the bowels of Sunderhelme. Do not ask yourself whether you should not have taught me better – you did. Part in me never wished to undertake that risk, this foolish venture to attack a dragon in its lair. But, grim and bitter have I been, and would not have the starry fields of mistress Moonbow been a relief from all the burdens? She is the mistress of our journeys – all of our journeys, even the ultimate one.
Yet it seems, my longing for death has brought not only death to Narfenzengul the Black, but also life to one of our company. Without spells of protection, he dared to challenge the wits of the beast, as humans sometimes do out of their fascination for things great and powerful as a dragon. The dragon did not negotiate at all, it demanded, although we were a dedicated group, and our spirits firm. Your lessons, although they failed to keep me from this dark place and fell battle, nevertheless were still in my mind: and the mageling did not even have a basic spell of protection cast. I feared the dragon’s foul odem would end his existance in an instance. And so I focussed his attention on me.
The battle did not last long, but it was fierce on both sides, and pain nearly knocked me off my feet. But, the mighty beast fell before us, and victory was ours to claim.
I am ever so grateful for the Moonbow to have decided my time had not come for her final journey. After all, I would have passed without seeing you again in this realm.
So many pass, as I come to think. Good friends, or people unknown, and even enemies. The world is more dangerous than I ever could have thought, and evil is stirring whereever one puts one’s gaze. Only in these circumstances have I come to think what a privilege it has been, to grow up in Clearwater Glade, secluded and shielded, with the wisest, gentlest and most beloved teacher one could ever wish for. You know how much I miss you, mother, and I think I will soon not anymore be able to withstand my longing for home and your company.
Also, I grow weary of the realms of men. They change ever so fast, never to last, and the few that do and I can call friends are indeed numbered all too easily. I hope I do not show the arrogance you warned me about our race was prone to, but also, I feel they are weak. Not by strength, for they have many who are greater in power than I am, but by character. Some of them not only fastly succumb to corruption, no, it even seems some of them seek it out. And it happens so fast, so fast, without means to stop it or for redemption, or alas, without means for my limited power. But one should strive not for power, you have taught me, and with suspicion and alertness I watched this wish in me, and have fought it. Have I ever told you of Brand Aesgir? He was one human whom I wished I had the power to save. But even his former god did not have that strength.
I met him as he was a paladin of Ilmater. He was gentle and caring, full of compassion for those around him, and never would he hesitate to offer his assistance. Yes, he was an example of helpfulness and care. But, o misery! His heart was befallen by an evil, and I, mother, only furthered it, by myself falling for the trickery of an axe of evil power, that lured me to be given to him. Why did I ever yield! It made the wish appear as my own, and had I known! I have failed that day, and how would I have needed your insight, your wisdom! The power of the axe, having found an adequate bearer of similar evil, put him beyond reach for any redemption.
In the sad end, he was convicted and tried for the murder of a guardsman in the dalelands. Guilt is nagging at me, especially since the axe has slipped again, and I cannot even avenge his demise by banning the curse of the axe forever. Crimson Edge is its name – I trust you will know more about it than I do, who had to travel to Candlekeep to at least find out some things about it. I will not taint this letter by capturing the evil in it in words written.
As for now, I need to try to rest again. Writing to you has calmed me, although still the wish for your warmth and your gentle being is overwhelming. But I need to rest now. Tomorrow I need to travel to the Hawk’s Nest, an old tower fortress for which I have been charged with the task of overseeing its rebuilt. A responsible endeavour, and I hope I can prove to be worthy of the trust that was put in me.
Waxing away is the starlight, and few are the hours remaining. I will write to you again soon, o dear mother. May the stars grace you with their beauty, may their light be your glistening cloak wherever you tread.
Yours forever in love,
Aszûne
6
Your graciousness Kelddath Ormlyr,
I did not write you sooner, for pride kept me from doing so. Pride, of which it is said my people is prone to, yet in the benevolent light of the stars that my goddess has sown upon the black velvet of the nightskies, I found in myself the seeds of wisdom that were planted by my beloved mother to shed it off.
Now, what remains, is disappointment, and sadness. I always knew you as a man of great wisdom, of a kind and gentle soul, yet with vigilance towards that what was his to protect. Perhaps in the ever turbulent realms of men I gave my judgment too soon, yet I sincerely hope I am not mistaken. Please be not be offended by my thoughts, for if you are the man I think I came to know you as, you will value my honesty.
But let me come to the point, for the elaborations of my kin must seem wearying and long-winded to those of other races.
I am disappointed about what ways you took of late. I have known you as a man valueing peace and trade, as both guarantee a prosperous and happy future for those living in these harsh borderlands. And yet, when you call for champions to defend Candlekeep, you chose slave-traders and talona-tainted murderers as your tower and fortress, while those that helped you address the threat of these very former, have to be out in the wilds hiding their friends and loved ones from the very people you entrusted with the defense of the great library.
As I said, my pride I have shed, and I am not upset for that you forget the help we did you in many dark hours, and I am not upset that you reward those that would oppose you and those that helped you against them, for maybe it shows that you are forgiving and generous. But, I am disappointed, and I cannot help but sense the nagging feeling of perceived injustice, that has bitten its very tooth into my mind. And, to a part, although I would not want to question your wisdom, I am afraid, and do not know whether I should not yell out aloud in alarm. That that whom you set free conspires with slave-traders and criminals now, that the very slave-trader teaches in your academy and those that pervert the values you stood for gain more and more hold upon your city and its people.
Revered Ormlyr, I bade Gelcur some time ago to let me assist him with the safekeeping of the city, for it seemed something worthwile. I am not sure whether I should not revoke my request, for I cannot identify with a town that foregoes its former friends to ease the way to the very ones that threatened its tranquility, and will continue to do so. As I said, I bear you no ill-will, and I feel not insult nor anger anymore, but the feeling that remains within me troubles me much more. It is that of frustration and desperation, the feeling whether it can be prudent to pursue to want to see law, order and justice, in peace and prosperity, when actions such as this take place.
I am concerned, your graciousness, for my mistress has not revealed her veils before my vision what may lie ahead in the future, and all apparent signs I see around me point to the conclusion that those that hoped to see to equitableness and the rule of law, that those are not welcome nor needed in your parts.
With respectful regards
Aszûne Whisperwind
7
Beloved mother,
beloved mother veiled forever in the grace of the stars, clad in the cloak of moonlight the Daughter of Nightskies has laid upon your shoulders as garment.
Far too long has been the time since last I wrote to you, and I would not know what words of apology, what bindings of feelings with ink on paper I could attempt to express how much I wish to beg your pardon for that. To think alone of what anguish and uncertainty I might have caused you further burdens my heart with guilt, despite my knowledge of your ever-forgiving kindness, which makes me feel you will forgive me, as you have always done, be I deserving of it or not. For you are my mother, and I am your daughter, bound in love to you perpetually.
The winds of time are changing around me, and I could not even start to try to write down all that has transpired, all things that happened to me, or all deeds that I did, all hardship endured, all joy felt. I am slipping, o mother, slipping into an uncertainty and doubt I never so have experienced. Solace I only find in the numbing cold, in the thought of you and in the certainty of the love of our Goddess, who will not abandon us – ever.
I have found love again, though this one has lost the innocence and destined determination. My heart is aching still with the loss of Aeluren, beloved Aeluren, whose arms gave shelter and whose smile gave comfort. O mother, I miss her still! With every thread of the fabric of my very soul, I am yearning for her touch and smile and caress and voice and laughter!
This new love is not as untainted. Not as complete, not woven with the innocence and gentle surety. It is of pride, of rivalry, of pain, of loss and of strife. Ever is she burdened. When I need to speak, she holds, when I need to be held, she loves, and when I need to be loved, she speaks. And still, I cannot help but love her, while my heart is bleeding.
And the call of the Most Exalted, of our Great Lady and Mistress is pulling on me. The moon circling above shines her light with a clarity I have never before experienced, despite all her glorious grace, and I cannot else than bow my head in humility and do her calling. I should be happy, and I am, for what merrier thing could there be than to be called by the Daughter of the Nightskies, to serve her will and be her hand and love her as I love you.
But for all love I have and feel, for all the comfort in the thought of the stars above, there is sorrow. Petty sorrow, perhaps, which I would need to shed like tears that sparkle in a pool that after they have fallen all the more brightly reflects the face of the stars and moon, but sorrow still that is numbing me.
The mighty halls of Sunderhelme have fallen. Where was I when they fell? On an errant of the king, sure, but would it not have been my duty as Stewardess to be there, and if necessary, fall in the first line? I know not what happened there in full. And I can only try to close my heart from hate when I think that with only kinslayer and his band, seven of the towns that were once home to me, where the fell evil of Amythyzul was defeated, seven of these towns were ruined and destroyed. Plague has ravaged the lands in which you once sent a mirage of your soothing presence. Maybe I could not have changed it. And whenever I think of it I feel the rage in my heart, the pure boiling hate, and my hands try to clutch the stars to bring me comfort.
The Faenor Bital of Berronar will announce me Warden of Light. I think she honours my pledge, but I feel part is to comfort me, to give me the faith chamber to cling on. I do not know whether I shall accept. I should, but I am torn, and my heart is broken like the seal that once held He Who Has Not Yet Come. The elven rune of binding. It is not a poetical thought to think when it was shattered, so was my heart, my being, my existance? Only to slowly wane, to fade away with time and in evergrowing sorrow, as everything is slipping my grasp, and I cannot hold back anymore what I wish to.
I love you.
There are rumors of a great shadow having set foot in the Anauroch. Even an ultimatum to the High Lady of Silverymoon was made, and again my heart is split. It was her who refused my sword when I willingly offered it, twice, and yet it was her whom I had admired like a divine being among mortals, like a lady worthy of fealty, a cause to fight for and defend, her wisdom and benevolence and generosity. What have I become, if pride gives me pause to travel there at once and offer my sword again, without thought? Why should I care to travel and act as an mercenary or soldier of fortune or adventurer. The nation of Luruar would take my service, and even without recognition once again, I could help.
Maybe it is an excuse, and maybe it is a sign of the uncertainty that has devoured my heart, is devouring it still. But I shall rest this decision with the council of dreams, within the tangled paths of reverie the Moonbow commands. She saved the inn of friendly arms. Did I write you of this? No. No I did not, for I have not written you in a long time, and again I apologize, beloved mother, lady next to my heart just after the Goddess that has sown the twinkling light for us to follow. It was a vision before my eyes, a revelation of her shrouds, that allowed me to pierce the web of deceit that was covering the plans of the enemy, which here was the spider queen herself, whose name I shall not spell for all her bloated madness. Yet, praise the Moonbow!, for the can be no shrouds she cannot withdraw. And back she rolled them, and as I descended beneath, to the vile and dark threat in the catacomps below, I left my shield and sword and only gripped the staff that a friend who passed once held. Fierce was the battle, and I was alone. No, I have to correct that. With me was the Goddess, and her shrouding veils proteced me against foe and fear, against hardship and horror.
I shall not enumerate all the foes I slew that day. Let it be known that it was scores of foul spider spawn and horrifying chimeras bound with the body of an Ilythiir, capable of deeds of magic, yet enraged with the madness their twisted, accursed form must have brought them. Their prowess in battle was great, and grievious wounds I suffered, as still the mosst direst of threats only lay before me after I slew their king. Out of a chasm in the ground, the most gargantuan spider I could ever in all shock and horror imagine crawled, larger still than the lumbering beast of a small house we slew in Waterdeep some years earlier! It was bloated, gigantic, unbelievably ugly, and I thought I would die just from looking at it. But, such relief was not given to me. And chittering and spewing poisonous goo from its claws, it assailed me, with all wrath the spider queen herself would have imbued into a creature which must have been the most precious thing to her! It was a miracle my staff did not sunder, and nothing but the cloak of faith the Moonbow granted me could explain how the mithril of king Bruenor’s plate held off her vicious mandibles. It was the most terrible battle I ever have faced, for there was only wrath, and again and again I let the wooden shaft clobber at her legs, fangs and eyes. Until finally, as I felt the last of my strength leaving me, they finally went dim, and the beast fell back into the abyss it crawled from. And with it, the whole complex of a cavernous catacomb began to crunch and crumble, crushing pieces of rocks all about me. I dragged myself out somehow, one of her giant attack legs that has broken off as trophy thrust to the gnome who found and healed me.
The little hamlet shall in future hold a statue to Sehanine to praise her saving of it, to thank the love an elven goddess can bring to a settlement of men, just because one of her people had set foot there. O endless is her generosity!
But alas, I see I am already finishing up the third page of paper. So much I have still told. So much I have to tell still. I will need to visit you soon, o mother, I would long so much to feel your arms, to hold you close to me and not let go until hunger or thirst set in. I love you. I wish I could say and write something more true, something more powerful than that. But then I realize, beloved mother, that surely you know what I feel for you, what I must feel for you, for how could I repay all your kindess with anything less than total and complete love, without compromise nor hesitation?
I love you, from the deepest of my heart, mind and soul.
Yours forever in love
Aszûne
The power of concealment lies in revelation.