Re: A forgotten tale from a lost Island - The true story behind Aleytys Lamar
Posted: Sat Jun 20, 2020 10:56 am
Three month later...
She was back again in her beloved Varshikar.
Her illness ended with the return of Silas and like him her strength returned slowly, although the deep bonding to Silas had nearly cost her own life.
She already felt the searching eyes of Negros, he sensed her growing power, felt it plainly.
Was she ready? Were her friends ready? Ready for the last fight?
______________________________________________________________
Gryphius - Thoughts and Life of a bard
Thus it had happened at last: The moment he had feared to come so long was finally there - it was all over, no longer Gryphius and Aleytys were a couple. Both of them had seen it coming, their differences had grown larger, but still, Gryphius refused to accept it. But now, she finally had made the first step, taking all of her courage, and did what deemed her necessary. As she claimed, the horrible sickness, under which she had suffered so long, was responsible for her affection to dry out. And indeed: The one final attempt to come close to her, sending a soft breeze on her lips, was doomed to carry no fruits. There was nothing more - her fire and her passion...appeared to be consumed her from within, replaced with cold.
For a long time they sat down on the tiny island, westwards the Seahorse. Bitterness filled the air, and it was obvious that both of them beared the strong will to cry out in pain. But nothing happened...only this treacherous cold, that sneakingly reached up to grasp for their hearts. Like a thousand stabs with a dagger it felt. And then again: The feeling of guilt. Although no reproaches crossed her lips, Gryphius was unable to hinder his conscience from rising its voice. »What did you do to keep her, Gryphius? Why did you pursue your lust of flesh, instead of staying with her, giving her the words of comfort she needed so dearly! Look at you...how 'rotten' you are!«
No answer he could offer, whilst glittering tears drew their lines his cheeks, as on hers. As one final farewell, he slid his fingertips over the strings of his lute, singing the song he had dedicated to Aleytys long ago - in times in which their love still was fresh seemingly unbreakable. He played, as if there was no tomorrow, and when the lute finally passed into silence...she went away from him - this time for good. After she had passed from his sight, he took the deepest breath he had ever taken, crying out as loud as he could: »Aleytys! Know that a part of mine will love you in eternity! You hear me, it will love you!« Then silence took over. Cold, painful silence.
The roaring waves had withdrawn the sand piece by peace, now leaving behind nothing but bare rocks. Thus the seemingly neverending war against Negros had taken its ultimate sacrifice. Or it was not the war after all? Would...Chiara the next to be, whose destiny he would lead to such fields of sadness?
She was back again in her beloved Varshikar.
Her illness ended with the return of Silas and like him her strength returned slowly, although the deep bonding to Silas had nearly cost her own life.
She already felt the searching eyes of Negros, he sensed her growing power, felt it plainly.
Was she ready? Were her friends ready? Ready for the last fight?
______________________________________________________________
Gryphius - Thoughts and Life of a bard
Thus it had happened at last: The moment he had feared to come so long was finally there - it was all over, no longer Gryphius and Aleytys were a couple. Both of them had seen it coming, their differences had grown larger, but still, Gryphius refused to accept it. But now, she finally had made the first step, taking all of her courage, and did what deemed her necessary. As she claimed, the horrible sickness, under which she had suffered so long, was responsible for her affection to dry out. And indeed: The one final attempt to come close to her, sending a soft breeze on her lips, was doomed to carry no fruits. There was nothing more - her fire and her passion...appeared to be consumed her from within, replaced with cold.
For a long time they sat down on the tiny island, westwards the Seahorse. Bitterness filled the air, and it was obvious that both of them beared the strong will to cry out in pain. But nothing happened...only this treacherous cold, that sneakingly reached up to grasp for their hearts. Like a thousand stabs with a dagger it felt. And then again: The feeling of guilt. Although no reproaches crossed her lips, Gryphius was unable to hinder his conscience from rising its voice. »What did you do to keep her, Gryphius? Why did you pursue your lust of flesh, instead of staying with her, giving her the words of comfort she needed so dearly! Look at you...how 'rotten' you are!«
No answer he could offer, whilst glittering tears drew their lines his cheeks, as on hers. As one final farewell, he slid his fingertips over the strings of his lute, singing the song he had dedicated to Aleytys long ago - in times in which their love still was fresh seemingly unbreakable. He played, as if there was no tomorrow, and when the lute finally passed into silence...she went away from him - this time for good. After she had passed from his sight, he took the deepest breath he had ever taken, crying out as loud as he could: »Aleytys! Know that a part of mine will love you in eternity! You hear me, it will love you!« Then silence took over. Cold, painful silence.
The roaring waves had withdrawn the sand piece by peace, now leaving behind nothing but bare rocks. Thus the seemingly neverending war against Negros had taken its ultimate sacrifice. Or it was not the war after all? Would...Chiara the next to be, whose destiny he would lead to such fields of sadness?
