Post by roselladestiny on Jan 13, 2003 18:06:05 GMT -5
I sat in my glade one autumn eve, as the trees swayed in the breeze and the flowers inclined their delicate heads, their jewel-bright petals falling like soft rain or angelic snow. I could hear the lonely, distant cry of a lupe, the haunting sound ringing with what was and what will never be again. As the familiar, prickling sensation of tears trickled down my cheek, I felt again the weariness of the earth and knew that it would soon fall into sleep, oblivion, until spring’s reviving thaw. The wind whispered to me and I answered back, “I am Illusen, and this is my home.”
Every autumn, as the leaves change color and begin to fall, earth faeries weep with sorrow. Our bind with the earth is so deep that we feel the stress and apprehension of every creature as they struggle to prepare for the coming cold, and the exhaustion of every single rock and plant. We know that the earth will sleep for months, enveloped in icy veils, until the first Pteri cries or the first Sponderola blooms. While this solemn change brings quiet melancholy, it also brings us great joy, for we know that nature is regaining strength and will emerge, bursting with life, in the springtime.
This particular autumn, however, things were much worse. War was raging in Meridell, uprooting the fertile soil and wrenching raw potatoes from the earth. Farmers neglected their duties to defend the realm, and young peasants replaced the Chia Police as law enforcers. Famine was reigning, for without farmers there was no food, and the pant devil and lava ghoul were striking from town to town. They stole everything they saw, for peasant Neopets, while skilled at counting potatoes and weighing marrows, had little knowledge of defending people from deranged, spectral thieves. But everything was worth it, because Meridell was winning.
I knew very little of the war, but no one could mistake the evil, looming shadow of the great stone structure that hovered over our land. The grass and flowers shriveled beneath it, and if you stood with one foot upon the shadow and one outside it, it was as if you stood on day and night. It was the Darigan Citadel, and I knew it to be the cause of our war. I didn’t know why we were fighting it, but I knew that I would support Meridell to the end.
One afternoon, Iyana, the earth faerie prophetess, came to visit me. Her appearance is somewhat unusual, as she was completely green, with gloss emerald trees, luminous, jade-like wings, and iridescent wings that flickered delicately. Such was the mark of a prophetess. (All dark faeries are prophetesses, but none of them can be trusted.) As she stepped inside my glade, I could tell that something was wrong, something that she was trying desperately to hide.
Iyana was very quiet as she sat down on a mossy log and sipped the borovan I handed her. She fingered the flowers absentmindedly, with a wistful, dreamy-eyed expression on her face, but I could see the secret in the tightened lines of her shoulder.
“What is it, Iyana?” I whispered at last. I watched her apprehensively as she nodded, evading my question
Iyana sighed. “Do you know of the king’s orb?” she asked finally. I nodded, confused. The orb was Meridell’s greatest legend, fabled to bring prosperity to whatever land possessed it, but what did that have to do with anything?
Iyana watched me silently, then suddenly burst out, “It was stolen!”
Every autumn, as the leaves change color and begin to fall, earth faeries weep with sorrow. Our bind with the earth is so deep that we feel the stress and apprehension of every creature as they struggle to prepare for the coming cold, and the exhaustion of every single rock and plant. We know that the earth will sleep for months, enveloped in icy veils, until the first Pteri cries or the first Sponderola blooms. While this solemn change brings quiet melancholy, it also brings us great joy, for we know that nature is regaining strength and will emerge, bursting with life, in the springtime.
This particular autumn, however, things were much worse. War was raging in Meridell, uprooting the fertile soil and wrenching raw potatoes from the earth. Farmers neglected their duties to defend the realm, and young peasants replaced the Chia Police as law enforcers. Famine was reigning, for without farmers there was no food, and the pant devil and lava ghoul were striking from town to town. They stole everything they saw, for peasant Neopets, while skilled at counting potatoes and weighing marrows, had little knowledge of defending people from deranged, spectral thieves. But everything was worth it, because Meridell was winning.
I knew very little of the war, but no one could mistake the evil, looming shadow of the great stone structure that hovered over our land. The grass and flowers shriveled beneath it, and if you stood with one foot upon the shadow and one outside it, it was as if you stood on day and night. It was the Darigan Citadel, and I knew it to be the cause of our war. I didn’t know why we were fighting it, but I knew that I would support Meridell to the end.
One afternoon, Iyana, the earth faerie prophetess, came to visit me. Her appearance is somewhat unusual, as she was completely green, with gloss emerald trees, luminous, jade-like wings, and iridescent wings that flickered delicately. Such was the mark of a prophetess. (All dark faeries are prophetesses, but none of them can be trusted.) As she stepped inside my glade, I could tell that something was wrong, something that she was trying desperately to hide.
Iyana was very quiet as she sat down on a mossy log and sipped the borovan I handed her. She fingered the flowers absentmindedly, with a wistful, dreamy-eyed expression on her face, but I could see the secret in the tightened lines of her shoulder.
“What is it, Iyana?” I whispered at last. I watched her apprehensively as she nodded, evading my question
Iyana sighed. “Do you know of the king’s orb?” she asked finally. I nodded, confused. The orb was Meridell’s greatest legend, fabled to bring prosperity to whatever land possessed it, but what did that have to do with anything?
Iyana watched me silently, then suddenly burst out, “It was stolen!”