singingshadows

[singingshadows]

(Update!)

@bloodofthedepths

[singingshadows]

“Do you concede?”

Sylvrinne ran her fingers over the little note that was tied around the neck of the mannequin. It took her long enough to even notice the note, between the letter still within her grasp and the gift that was before her eyes. Her fingers drifted from the parchment to the dress, feeling the beautiful fabric; soft and sturdy. Oh, it was properly overwhelming. She had never before been treated so kindly, so softly. And never before had she been gifted with things so beautiful. Flowers were more than enough, in truth, yet this had exceeded all of her expectations.

But, did she concede?

She picked the tiara up and placed it upon her head, she made her way to the mirror and studied how it looked upon her. It was more beautiful than she deserved, yet it was given to her anyways. And she wished to honor that gift with every breath. And so, she carefully removed the tiara and placed it back where it once was. She had time to plan, time to plot. She shut the door of the walk in and left the room entirely.

She passed by servants and greeted them warmly, exiting the estate to find Yuuya out by the garden. Her younger, yet freakishly taller brother was as still as stone, and he only seemed to animate when she was close enough to speak her request. “Do you think the smith and the armorer can be bothered with a request?”

Yuuya seemed unamused, those angry, ruby eyes stared out from beneath the brim of his tricorn hat in scrutiny. “I imagine they can, if you pay them like you did the last time. What is it.” His voice held hardly any tone, any emotion. She was used to this, by now.

Her answer did not miss a beat, her good mood could not be swayed. “Good, good! I have a special request, I need it done quickly!”

Yuuya and her discussed the details of this request, and she had him walk with her to the room she shared with Ithildir. Yet, she made him wait outside while she penned a note for her beloved to read, a note for Yuuya to bring to him while he did her bidding.

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑑𝑒.

@bloodofthedepths

[singingshadows]

Between Blackfall and Omas’dorale, Sylvrinne found it hard to plan secret gifts. But she had managed it well enough, she thought. While attending courtly matters, she managed to sneak away from Ithildir long enough to have a package sent to his home via courier.

Within the package, quaint as it was, something if sentimental value was held. A dagger, something of master crafted quality. The scabbard was a dyed leather, bearing intricate embroidery of silver. The handle was big enough for any man’s hand, comfortable and sturdy. But the blade was the most important part. It was some sort of white metal, likely tempered leymetal. Oh, how it would shine when the light hit it. How it reflected its surroundings like a mirror. And it was sharp. Sharp enough to break the skin should it graze it even mildly. Uncurved, straight and deadly as any weapon went.

Beneath it was a little note.

My dearest Ithildir,

I wished to gift you with something, perhaps something more useful than a bauble or a piece of clothing. I spent days wondering what best to do, and then I thought of this. I had it made for you. Timing isn’t my best quality, and so I hope that you find this, within your study. And I hope that you love it.

Yours forever,

𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒

@sparrow-of-omasdorale

[singingshadows]

( I love them )

@sparrow-of-omasdorale

[singingshadows]

An Avoidable End

“You can’t live until you die. .”

“You can’t breathe until you drown. .”

“Lost in the darkness, you fade from the light. .”

“Blood on your conscious, and murder in mind. . “

“Empathize with enemies, until the time is right. .”

“I know things that you don’t. .”

“I’ve done things that you won’t. .”

“There is nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home. .”

Keep reading

[singingshadows]

In the small hours of the morning, before dawn had graced the horizon, Sylvrinne crept the unfamiliar halls of a place she was guest to. Her footfalls were quiet, all through the soreness of her legs. She had to brace against the wall several times in order to keep herself from falling to the ground. She tried to avoid servants, she tried to avoid anyone. It worked- it was late.

She didn’t know how long it took, she didn’t know if when she returned that her companion would be awake, but she merely wanted to deliver this little note she had wrote for him. He would read it when he found it, whenever he did. She didn’t mind when.

Eventually she found what she was looking for. His study. She crept in silently, nearly stumbling over her feet several times before she finally delivered the note to his desk. She didn’t linger, she didn’t snoop. She ignored her curiosities and returned to where she wanted to be most. As quickly as her aching legs could take her.

𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐼𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑟,

𝐹𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝑢𝑠, 𝐼 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑.

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒.

-𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒

@sparrow-of-omasdorale

[singingshadows]

The courier had arrived in the evening. Sylvrinne was thumbing a beautiful orange flower when one of her servants brought it to her. She had been sitting on her balcony, watching the graveyard. She could see spirits still, toying with the leaves to relieve their endless boredom.

Her fate lay there. And her gaze turned to the letter she opened. Short as it was.

“Lady Shadowcrest,

The time for dancing has finished. We meet now as beasts true to our nature.

Fate shall determine the victor.

Master Shandaumath”

The words looked angry. ‘Don’t blow a gasket, Vynlorin.’ She thought, girlishly giggling at the letter. ‘It’s not so fun if your ire is so easily stirred.’ It was good she didn’t bear witness to this, perhaps she would have been too busy laughing at his expense to defend herself.

Ah, fate. What did he know of fate? Little to nothing, he played into its hands and played into Roscidia’s hands. He had yet to see Sylvrinne as she was, but since he had asked so nicely...

She laughed again, throwing the paper to the wind. “You haven’t seen beastly yet.” She purred to it, igniting within her palm a shadowy flame; she stood, watching the paper flutter uselessly in the air. “And may the most monstrous survive!~” Her hand snapped forwards; releasing a torrent of the flame to the letter until it was reduced to smoldering ashes, carried elsewhere. Anywhere.

Pen was poised to paper sometime around midnight. And when the letter was sent, so too was a feather secured to the parchment via her wax seal.

The feather of a black bird.

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑡ℎ,

𝑊𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠.

𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡. 𝑃𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝑂𝑟, 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑦 𝑝𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡, 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠.

-𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

@shandaumath

[singingshadows]

(OOC POST BUT LOOK AT MY BABY SYLVRI AAAA ARTIST IS KAREM BO)

[singingshadows]

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑡ℎ,

I’m sure the time between our correspondence has been lovely for you, unburdened by annoyance. The bells tolled today, I realized it had been far too long since I have last written to you.

I’m sure you know why I now write, coy words are beyond us now.

Let us meet again. Spin tales for the other to ponder upon. Our usual dance.

May fate keep you unharmed until that time comes, whenever it shall be.

-𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

<The elegant script was written in a fervor of some form, the quill had nearly bit through the parchment several times.>

@shandaumath

[singingshadows]

Journal Entry 003

I stared into the mirror for what I thought was hours. Yet when I finally removed myself from it, I was informed that I remained affixed to it for over a day.

What I saw within it captivated me, yet now I feel as if my spine was removed crudely and there is only a wound left where it should be. I am wounded, for I saw everything that once was and what it should be. A Thread shattered by my own hand.

I bore witness to innocence, perverted by the drowning beneath the tides, the pools of the Under. I remember now, who I was. I remember now, the memories replaced by what it wanted me to be.

I am fragmented.

It has warped my vision of beauty, of love, of adoration and affection. It warped my vision of honesty, right, and wrong. I witnessed who I was know all of these things intimately- I am a husk now. I know none of them. Not even the memories resonated. They only hurt.

What regrets I bare are severe. I know no way to atone. I only know that I must move forward now, or else I will be tangled within the Threads and torn to shreds.

Yet, I swear, I’ll not lose myself again.

I know better now.

[singingshadows]

A Descent into Salvation

Lady Pryliese had delivered a gift most sublime. It was something of a rarity, exotic and even. A hard enough item to secure in one piece, yet miraculously it had been done. Delivered into the Under-rooms without a single trace of the undead’s existence to be found. A decorative bow was upon it as it laid secure to one of the various tables.

Thrashing. Alive. Too alive.

“You won’t be able to talk your way out of it, now.” Sylvrinne’s voice was birthed from the darkest corner of the room, she walked forward to the table where the gift lay. Gagged, of course. It didn’t need to speak. “Oh, Sister Elihal, how I have wondered when our paths would cross once more.” The Baroness cooed. She felt high, uncontrolled. Perhaps she even looked it, as well.

The clothes that Sylvrinne wore were nearly rags now. Dried blood chipped the fabric away. They were ritualistic garments. Her figure was not flattered yet it didn’t need to be here. The gift began to cry as she gently trailed the pads of her fingers up from the ankle. “Your nakedness is sublime.” She softly intoned, her voice was deceptively soothing. “How vulnerable you must feel to betray your doctrines before me right now. You sinner.” The trail met with the gift’s face, and as Elihal began to whimper muffled protests, Sylvrinne struck it swiftly across the face. “Be not afraid. If your Light loves you so much, you will meet it and embrace its warmth. Ascension and whatever other bullshit that your kind like to preach about.”

She moved to the dirty surgical table next to the slab that her gift was secured upon. Instruments of pain were displayed across it, unclean and used. They were a sinners instruments. “I know, I know. I’m not supposed to acquire people for this without an official degree. But I think my experience, my sister’s experience with you will make the exception. I failed to protect her from you once. A sin I shall now atone for.”

She did not pluck an instrument from the table. Instead her gaze turned to her gift, to which she cooed at soothingly. “Perhaps I should correct an untruth I have told you just now.” Her hand suddenly snapped to her gift’s throat. She watched in delight as tears dribbled from Elihal’s eyes. “There is no Light for you at the end of your tunnel. Your essence will serve that which is greater than it could ever be.”

And then silence fell. She waited for reality right settle. She waited for the hope to drain from her gift’s eyes. And it did. Eventually. Perhaps it was not because of her, but before of the strange and gangly giant that manifested from the stone wall nearby. Perhaps it was the nakedness. Perhaps it was nothing at all. Sylvrinne had hardly acknowledged her god, she didn’t need to.

“I sacrifice...”

As soon as those prophetic words were uttered, shadows poured forth from Sylvrinne’s maw, and then all went black for the Baroness. Finer details were lost amongst the ritual. Though not enough. She could remember ripping Elihal’s stomach open with her bare hands, pulling what was on the inside to the outside. She could remember the screams. The could remember the smell. And she could remember ripping the soul from the gut-less husk of the gift.

Yet she could not remember enough.

When she awoke, she was in her bed. Far away from the Under-rooms. Clean. Naked. Warm. The high was gone and control was hers once more. Threads shattered before her eyes and the gravity of what she did crashed upon her and yet she could not bring herself to give a reaction. She laid in silence for several moments before her gaze tore from the ceiling and wandered to her desk. Parchment and quill at the ready.

Many people entered her thoughts then. People she wished she could make amends with. People she wished that she could earn affections from. People she wished that she could crush. People she wished that she would be crushed by. And in that moment not a single one mattered more to her than a peculiar one. She would not think of them. She would not for if she did she knew she would rise from her bed and her hand would write and Threads she wished so desperately to traverse would forever be lost.

No, instead she curled upon her side and forced her eyes shut. She prayed for hours for sleep to claim her until it finally did.

Tomorrow is another day.

[singingshadows]

Master Shandaumath,

It is lovely to receive word from you again. As for the orb, it’s uses, and my uses: all things come in time. I don’t expect you to ever call upon me for whatever matter that I could possibly assist you with. However, spying is the very least of what I imagine would concern you, it was only an option. As for biting back- Well, Master Shandaumath, it is something I indulge in. I do remember knocking the wine glass from your hand, oh how in that moment both of us hated one another. I had not know such real ire from such a small offense in what felt like 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠. Not that I would do it again, no, such behavior is boorish and shall not be repeated.

I did send word to Lady Aredhele. An array of new Threads open once it departed from my grasp. One in the same, a new Thread opened upon our last meeting. Strange as they are, finicky things. Do you know how often fate mocks us?

I do not trifle with Stormwind often, though the assumption that I am never there is incorrect, dear Master. I have found a new faithful there as of yesterday evening. I keep my excursions there short, however. You don’t strike me as the kind of man who would wallow in that place for long, if he had it his own way, either. Perhaps I am wrong, we know so little about one another. Only shadows and assumptions.

Mostly.

The desire is very real. I suppose that you will have to bare witness to it for yourself. Oh, but it does conflict with my selfishness. Though, the Threads tell such wondrous tales to me still. I fear some of them. Yet with fear, there is allure. The allure to try to correct the horrendous probabilities.

Let us tell one another half-truths again soon, yes?

Why fight with fate?

-𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

Master Vynlorin Shandaumath,

I hope that this letter finds you in high spirits, or that it finds you at all.

I have replaced my scrying orb entirely, as the damage to the other was so profound that repair was unable to be attained. No matter, of course. However now, should you choose to bare witness to the various Threads that I have mentioned. Who would you like to spy upon, I wonder? What paths would you like to trifle with? Or is this merely a matter of study? No probability is certain as of yet. I’ll make certain to prove useful, whatever the case is or turns into.

My services as Eyes have been lent to you, and shall remain discreet. These same services will be lent to Lady Aredhele. Yet whatever inquiries you have upon the ever-unfurling paths shall not cross her ears lest they be from your lips.

Lastly, I do hope I can earn your forgiveness for the end of our last meeting. Selfish as I am, the paths are rendered useless if I offend you beyond repair. Tender as you are in the public eye, I can recognize ire when it is sparked, as delicious as ire can be.

Until we meet again, do stay safe.

-𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

@shandaumath

[singingshadows]

Master Vynlorin Shandaumath,

I hope that this letter finds you in high spirits, or that it finds you at all.

I have replaced my scrying orb entirely, as the damage to the other was so profound that repair was unable to be attained. No matter, of course. However now, should you choose to bare witness to the various Threads that I have mentioned. Who would you like to spy upon, I wonder? What paths would you like to trifle with? Or is this merely a matter of study? No probability is certain as of yet. I’ll make certain to prove useful, whatever the case is or turns into.

My services as Eyes have been lent to you, and shall remain discreet. These same services will be lent to Lady Aredhele. Yet whatever inquiries you have upon the ever-unfurling paths shall not cross her ears lest they be from your lips.

Lastly, I do hope I can earn your forgiveness for the end of our last meeting. Selfish as I am, the paths are rendered useless if I offend you beyond repair. Tender as you are in the public eye, I can recognize ire when it is sparked, as delicious as ire can be.

Until we meet again, do stay safe.

-𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

@shandaumath

[singingshadows]

Lady Aredhele Valtieri,

I hope that this letter finds you well and in good health. While I would have preferred to introduce myself to you in person, I understand that you must have many pressing matters to tend to in your day-to-day life, and thus I write to beseech you for the pleasure of meeting you.

Whenever you find the time to allow a foriegn baroness your ear, I will make way to you as quickly as I can. We can tell tales to one another and forge a friendship which will strengthen your bonds to reaches beyond the eyes of Stormwind, should fate grace us with such an outcome.

Until that time graces us both, I wish you safety and plenty of splendor.

-𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

@aredhelvaltieri

[singingshadows]

Journal Entry 002

Change is such a repulsive and ugly thing, yet upheaval and destruction and necessary tools of fate. I sit alone, the hour is late. The sins I have corrected tonight once I descended into the Under-rooms cleared my mind only briefly before my thoughts were pulled back to that which I had been trying to distract myself from.

This evening I had been graced with my current object of desire- yet not even I am sure what I desire from this man. Surely it shall come to fruition in time, as all things do, for better or for worse. Surely I shall understand this draw to the kindred sinner, yet not for now. I shall enjoy dancing my words with his as we tell one another half-truths.

Yet I still feel vulnerable. Spoken to, he was, yet by the One. He knows too much. If he was ever a threat, he is now a promise. I am unsure for what. The Drowned One is pleased with his observations, I only know little of his future desires. It is mystery that I do not mind. Yet I feel exposed nevertheless. There is no turning back. I feel naked still, yet clothed I am. I wish this feeling would pass.

I did indulge myself one more time upon the departure of the 𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, I couldn’t help myself. He did not disappoint in correcting me, and exposing me once more to that beast within him which resonates so well with the one within me. In the aftermath I could still feel his fingers upon my face.

Just one more time, would it hurt so much?

It would. It would hurt in ways I would not wish to hurt, I think. In the morning, instead, I shall fix my scrying orb and prove myself invaluable, should that be possible. At any rate, it needed to be fixed. The Threads are too many now. There are too many paths, too many ends. I can’t see which is which, their probability disorganized and scattered. This cannot do.

I don’t know which is my desired Thread any longer. All of them, even the ones which end in blood, are so tempting.

Perhaps I should rest. Perhaps once my mind has been further freed from his company, it’ll be easier to focus upon the immediate need in front of me which involves another.

For better, for worse, I will tangle myself within the lives of many. As it has been asked of me. And as I am delighted to do. My selfishness can wait, the inevitable is already at hand. And thus the web weaves uncontrollably.

[singingshadows]

Master Shandaumath,

I believe in our previous meeting, I left you with an offer to treat you to wine. And now I formally extend this offer to you. I hope that you wouldn’t mind sitting with me at Blackfall Manor, to entertain promises both true and false with one another once more.

Of course, if you would like food to be served, I would be more than happy to accommodate your tastes. And, naturally, if you’ve a preferred wine, do inform me. I’ll be sure to acquire it.

I do look forward to your company, should you choose to grace me with it.

-𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

@shandaumath

[singingshadows]

Journal Entry 001

I awoke early in the morning, home at last. I vaguely remember my journey, across lands I have not familiarized myself with before. Or maybe I have, my memory does not serve me well. Yet.

Once more, my banners have been called in service of the Dusk, and to the One below. I am happy to have purpose again. I had not known her until I was enlightened, at the beach. But I know her now, intimately and real. I have been given a task, one of which I do not know how to carry out.

I met a man, he is one of many keys to fulfilling my purpose as Eyes. He loathes me. I find it endearing when people loathe me.

No longer is hatred intimidating. It is exhilarating. May he hate me harder.

It has been many years since I occupied position as High Inquisitor. But I remember my delight in it, and my delight in the sights, the aromas, the sounds. With any luck, I will revisit those days, too.