Chapter 6 - Arciel

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''"It is the fortune of elves to be granted so many lifetimes, ruin will inevitably lead to redemption given a healthy dose of time.'' - Arciel
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''"It is the fortune of elves to be granted so many lifetimes, ruin will inevitably lead to redemption given a healthy dose of time."'' - Arciel
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== I ==
Unrivaled in age among the cities of Reydala stood the grand Pallenon, inheriting its title when the ancient Elven capital was razed during a terrible conflict of dragons.  Pallenon was famous for many things, not the least of which was being the training grounds for the Leyandran army.  Its smiths were likewise famous, the city sometimes being called the "Seat of Fianna" due to it's numerous and capable forges.  Tens of thousands of Elves made this city their home, though the population has gone through many shifts in diversity and ideals as the march of time continued on.
Unrivaled in age among the cities of Reydala stood the grand Pallenon, inheriting its title when the ancient Elven capital was razed during a terrible conflict of dragons.  Pallenon was famous for many things, not the least of which was being the training grounds for the Leyandran army.  Its smiths were likewise famous, the city sometimes being called the "Seat of Fianna" due to it's numerous and capable forges.  Tens of thousands of Elves made this city their home, though the population has gone through many shifts in diversity and ideals as the march of time continued on.
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It was a cold morning on the 15th day of Sepoltur, fifty-six years after they were wed, that their first and only child was born...
It was a cold morning on the 15th day of Sepoltur, fifty-six years after they were wed, that their first and only child was born...
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== II ==
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Marcus Enkenath sat nervously beside the bed of his wife in their manor outside of Pallenon, holding her hand.  He could tell she was in terrible pain and could hardly bear to see it.  Elsbeth's eyes were closed in a continual wince as contraction after contraction came, and though she tried to fight the screams rising in her throat, many escaped regardless.  Two priestesses of Mulinel were also there by the bed, one set to receive the child and the other holding Elsbeth's other hand, chanting prayers to the water goddess in an attempt to soothe the mother's pain. 
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Watching his greatest love endure such pain was terribly unsettling to him. The clerics had already warned them against having a child saying that it could be lethal to both the mother and the child.  Marcus felt an enormous guilt upon him for the sorrow that he felt at that announcement, and for later accepting Elsbeth's decision to continue regardless.  He felt like this pain she was feeling was his fault, and if she should die this day he would never forgive himself.  He squeezed that hand as if he were holding his wife in this world.  Between her screams, Elsbeth looked up toward her husband, once managing a smile, knowing what he was feeling. 
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At that point, hand-holding ended and Marcus fully embraced his love.  The two clung to each other, inseparable, until they heard the cries of their daughter. 
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Elsbeth trembled, and lapsed into unconsciousness as the child parted from her body.
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Marcus' tears filled his eyes as he yelled her name, squeezing her tight against him, fearing that the worst had happened. 
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The priestess opposite Marcus shook him by the shoulders. Saying softly "She is still alive, she survived..."
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Marcus could not think right, everything else seemed unable to reach him as he cried "Elsbeth!" over and over.  The Priestess had to pry him away from her by force, pleading with him: "Please!..  She is just exhausted, she will be alright!.."
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Marcus trembled himself, looking down at his wife and speaking sadly as the tears poured from his eyes, slowly returning to his senses. "Elsbeth... Such a pain you endured... Why did I allow it?!... Never do I want to hear your cries again... My Elsbeth!.."
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The priestess in that room softly patted his shoulder. "She will be well! Mulinel has showered her graces upon you..  Come! Look to your child..."
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Marcus' eyes shot open "My child...!" he suddenly looked to the other priestess who was holding the sobbing infant, wrapped in some clean cloths.  "My child... no, our child, Elsbeth! Our child!... Is she well? Tell me our child is well!.."
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The priestess holding the child slowly brought it over to Marcus. "She already breathes on her own, she is perfectly well.. I did not think it would be possible, truly this child must be blessed.."
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Marcus looked at that priestess as if she were Mulinel herself, letting out a cry of joy.. "Oh Elsbeth! She is well, all is well... Were your eyes open to share this moment...".  Marcus sat upon a stool next to the bed, hesitantly taking the child from the priestess, in awe of the delicate beauty that now lay in his hands.  The child ceased to cry, and looked up at her father with deep, curious eyes.  Marcus was struck silent for a moment, still unable to cease his own tears.
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"Our lovely child... My daughter..." He alternated his gaze between the child in his arms and his wife on the bed, watching the gentle movements of her breaths.  "Praise be to Mulinel... Praise be to all the gods who brought you to us, the answer to all of our prayers... Behold your mother! See how much she prayed for you, to have gone through so much... Our child.."
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The priestesses left the room with a silent sign of blessing, leaving the father to spend time with his family.  They shared with each other a short prayer at the doorway of the household to bless those within, anointing the door with sanctified water before departing.  It was a few hours before Elsbeth once again opened her eyes and immediately turned to her husband, still holding the child in his arms by her bedside.
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The child was sleeping peacefully, and Marcus was smiling, though the redness of his eyes belied the emotions he had faced that day. 
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Elsbeth slowly let out a long sigh of relief, her body still felt too sore to move, but she was happy, looking on for a moment past her husband's shoulders to the clear arctic sky beyond the window. 
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Marcus started to follow her gaze.  "The clouds have parted, as if in response to her birth... Truly we are blessed..." 
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Elsbeth struggled to speak, unable to shake her pain and weariness.  "...A name to echo these blessings, the arctic sky..."
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Marcus softly whispered. "Perhaps...Arciel?..."
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Elsbeth smiled inwardly, closing her eyes. "Arciel... How beautiful... Yes, it must be that... Our Arciel..."
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== III ==

Current revision as of 08:28, 26 June 2007

"It is the fortune of elves to be granted so many lifetimes, ruin will inevitably lead to redemption given a healthy dose of time." - Arciel

I

Unrivaled in age among the cities of Reydala stood the grand Pallenon, inheriting its title when the ancient Elven capital was razed during a terrible conflict of dragons. Pallenon was famous for many things, not the least of which was being the training grounds for the Leyandran army. Its smiths were likewise famous, the city sometimes being called the "Seat of Fianna" due to it's numerous and capable forges. Tens of thousands of Elves made this city their home, though the population has gone through many shifts in diversity and ideals as the march of time continued on.

Most of the elves with no tastes for military might or the make of weapons considered Pallenon famous for its wine. Indeed, the climate had just the right temperature for the cultivation of grapes, and the fields to the south of the city were looked after carefully by artisans in their craft. They had to be, for an opening in the fields south of Pallenon could sometimes fetch more than ten thousand Gold Terremes for just an acre of land alone. There were many famous families that had owned land here for over a millenium and had become household names in their city. One such name was Enkenath.

The Enkenath family first acquired their land as far back as the 1500s. The vicious war with Riscana had claimed the life of one of the landowners, and the victim's family placed it up for auction as none of their remaining kin had skill or inclination toward the profession. Pallenon's reputation in wine was just beginning during this period, and so the Enkenath family acquired a parcel of land for a pittance that would later be worth fortunes. The particular Enkenath in question was an entrepenuer of sorts, and had spent the remainder of his savings to purchase the land. His name was Ilnum, and he was already well into his years when he offered to buy the land, intending to spend his remaining years creating wine after centuries of working as a trader. Ilnum had garnered a fine taste for wine as he criss-crossed the Leyandran countryside, but he knew very little of making it at the time of his jump into the field. Though the first barrels that Ilnum produced from the fields south of Pallenon could hardly be considered fine wine, Ilnum steadily learned. Over time and each batch became better than the last, and it was not long before Taverns all over Pallenon were scrambling to stock their shelves with Enkenath wine.

As the centuries passed, the Enkenath family raked in tremendous profits and even began to export their spirits to cities all over Leyandra. Ilnum's second-born son inherited the business upon his father's death, and spread the Enkenath name even further. The wine became a favorite of Kaltian pilgrims visiting Mulinel's homeland. Though no trade routes would be established due to the treacherous conditions on road between the two nations, the few bottles that Pilgrims took back with them over the snow became items of treasure to Bartenders in Krasevae. Indeed, having a bottle of Enkenath wine was said to be a sure charm for future prosperity among taverns in the city, especially if the bottle still contained any of the treasured liquid. The few bottles that went up for auction in Krasevae all fetched more than a thousand Gold Terremes each.

It was in the year of 3115 that Marcus Enkenath inherited the business when his grandfather passed on. Young Marcus had spent most of his life on his grandfather's farm after his parents were both killed in an Ice Elf attack while supplying wine to Frostfall. His grandfather had carefully passed on to him all the secrets of the trade that the Enkenath family had accrued through the generations, and Marcus had eagerly absorbed every iota of knowledge that came his way. Despite the path of Luxury that was available to Marcus given his family's wealth, it was by his own volition that he went out to the fields with the workers every harvest. Outgoing and humble, Marcus made many friends among the workers there, and heard many stories of the troubles of the working man and families outside his own. From these early experiences, it was no surprise to many that Marcus grew to be an astoundingly tolerant elf of all walks of life, even known to have friends among the humans that had for one reason or another found themselves in Pallenon.

On one of his many trips across the country to promote the Enkenath name, Marcus met and fell in love with the daughter of one of his clients named Elsbeth. Their courtship lasted for many years, though his travels kept him away from her side for most of the time. The old innkeeper was quick to give his blessing when the topic of marriage was finally broached (the Enkenath fortune at this point was legendary all around Leyandra). Marcus and Elsbeth were married in the year of 3178, though many of his kin refused to attend the ceremonies as Elsbeth was not a noble. Thanks to Marcus' longstanding friendships with many across Leyandra however, there was not an empty seat remaining in the temple.

It was a cold morning on the 15th day of Sepoltur, fifty-six years after they were wed, that their first and only child was born...

II

Marcus Enkenath sat nervously beside the bed of his wife in their manor outside of Pallenon, holding her hand. He could tell she was in terrible pain and could hardly bear to see it. Elsbeth's eyes were closed in a continual wince as contraction after contraction came, and though she tried to fight the screams rising in her throat, many escaped regardless. Two priestesses of Mulinel were also there by the bed, one set to receive the child and the other holding Elsbeth's other hand, chanting prayers to the water goddess in an attempt to soothe the mother's pain.

Watching his greatest love endure such pain was terribly unsettling to him. The clerics had already warned them against having a child saying that it could be lethal to both the mother and the child. Marcus felt an enormous guilt upon him for the sorrow that he felt at that announcement, and for later accepting Elsbeth's decision to continue regardless. He felt like this pain she was feeling was his fault, and if she should die this day he would never forgive himself. He squeezed that hand as if he were holding his wife in this world. Between her screams, Elsbeth looked up toward her husband, once managing a smile, knowing what he was feeling.

At that point, hand-holding ended and Marcus fully embraced his love. The two clung to each other, inseparable, until they heard the cries of their daughter.

Elsbeth trembled, and lapsed into unconsciousness as the child parted from her body.

Marcus' tears filled his eyes as he yelled her name, squeezing her tight against him, fearing that the worst had happened.

The priestess opposite Marcus shook him by the shoulders. Saying softly "She is still alive, she survived..."

Marcus could not think right, everything else seemed unable to reach him as he cried "Elsbeth!" over and over. The Priestess had to pry him away from her by force, pleading with him: "Please!.. She is just exhausted, she will be alright!.."

Marcus trembled himself, looking down at his wife and speaking sadly as the tears poured from his eyes, slowly returning to his senses. "Elsbeth... Such a pain you endured... Why did I allow it?!... Never do I want to hear your cries again... My Elsbeth!.."

The priestess in that room softly patted his shoulder. "She will be well! Mulinel has showered her graces upon you.. Come! Look to your child..."

Marcus' eyes shot open "My child...!" he suddenly looked to the other priestess who was holding the sobbing infant, wrapped in some clean cloths. "My child... no, our child, Elsbeth! Our child!... Is she well? Tell me our child is well!.."

The priestess holding the child slowly brought it over to Marcus. "She already breathes on her own, she is perfectly well.. I did not think it would be possible, truly this child must be blessed.."

Marcus looked at that priestess as if she were Mulinel herself, letting out a cry of joy.. "Oh Elsbeth! She is well, all is well... Were your eyes open to share this moment...". Marcus sat upon a stool next to the bed, hesitantly taking the child from the priestess, in awe of the delicate beauty that now lay in his hands. The child ceased to cry, and looked up at her father with deep, curious eyes. Marcus was struck silent for a moment, still unable to cease his own tears.

"Our lovely child... My daughter..." He alternated his gaze between the child in his arms and his wife on the bed, watching the gentle movements of her breaths. "Praise be to Mulinel... Praise be to all the gods who brought you to us, the answer to all of our prayers... Behold your mother! See how much she prayed for you, to have gone through so much... Our child.."

The priestesses left the room with a silent sign of blessing, leaving the father to spend time with his family. They shared with each other a short prayer at the doorway of the household to bless those within, anointing the door with sanctified water before departing. It was a few hours before Elsbeth once again opened her eyes and immediately turned to her husband, still holding the child in his arms by her bedside. The child was sleeping peacefully, and Marcus was smiling, though the redness of his eyes belied the emotions he had faced that day.

Elsbeth slowly let out a long sigh of relief, her body still felt too sore to move, but she was happy, looking on for a moment past her husband's shoulders to the clear arctic sky beyond the window.

Marcus started to follow her gaze. "The clouds have parted, as if in response to her birth... Truly we are blessed..."

Elsbeth struggled to speak, unable to shake her pain and weariness. "...A name to echo these blessings, the arctic sky..."

Marcus softly whispered. "Perhaps...Arciel?..."

Elsbeth smiled inwardly, closing her eyes. "Arciel... How beautiful... Yes, it must be that... Our Arciel..."

III

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