#gw2 poem

[eparch]

Cat of the Grove

(Also on AO3)

--------------

There is a Cat in the Grove

and it is one of many,

but this is the one that dares

climb all of mother's boughs.

As saplings, we watched it:

1. trot after our Luminary

2. mewl until fed

3. curl up for a nap

...at the mother avatar's feet.

(She does not shoo it.)

There is a Cat in the Grove

that has been there since we awakened.

The firstborn care for it

as they care for us

but they tell no stories

of how it came to the Grove.

So we take upon ourselves

the task of telling travelers—

the humans and the Norn

the Charr and, yes, the Asura too:

This is the firstborn

of all cats in the Grove.

It was here before us,

and it shall be here forever,

for firstborn cannot die

if they do not leave the Grove.

We are met with peculiar stares

and then we flee from our Luminary

who comes to scold us for telling lies.

There is a Cat in the Grove

that does not have a name.

As Wardens, we watch it

play amidst our practice targets

and hone its claws on them

just as we hone arrows and blades,

so we call it warrior.

As Menders, we watch it

seek our ill and our injured

and it lays at their sides

until they are cheered by it,

so we call it healer.

As Gardeners, we watch it

hunt vermin and pests

and keep our fields free

with its frequent patrols,

so we call it defender.

It does not seem to mind

the names we give it

as long as it can play and love and hunt.

There is a Cat in the Grove

who fusses and frets like the Menders

and of late it stays close

to our mother the most.

Few times it's left her boughs

where it nestles on the scars

left behind in the attack.

There is a Cat in the Grove

and one day it yowls and it shrieks

louder than before

until we are all awake,

from the upper chambers to Astorea

we hear it

and then we feel our mother weeping

and then we feel ourselves

the great loss of our brother

the first of firstborn

gone forevermore.

We will hear later

stories from the west,

and face together uncertainty

from the travelers that once filled

our Grove with laughter and cheer.

The humans and the Norn

and the Charr and the Asura—

for now they will give us

distrustful stares.

So we turn to our Luminary,

to the firstborns still here,

as if we were saplings again,

newly awakened.

We mourn together

for brothers and sisters and siblings lost

and for the first of firstborn

and they tell us stories

of his long travels and great deeds

and they tell us stories

of the Cat in the Grove.

Aife tells us he brought it

from far, far away

when it was smaller,

young like our people then,

and he returned with it on his shoulder

showing his brothers and sisters

his newfound companion.

Niamh tells us he played with it

but was never the only one

for Wynne and others too

would craft for it sticks

and let it chase leaves

all around the first gardens

(but not Faolain,

who thought to torment it

foolishly and futilely).

Kahedins tells us he showed it

to mother many times over,

and each time she would say

"I do not dictate the creatures

that emerge from the Dream."

and he would seem aggrieved

until it sought him

to comfort him.

Malomedies tells us he taught it

to seek out Caithe when hungry,

both from frivolity he liked to hide

and from wishing she would

open her heart to it

and then Caithe as thanks

taught it to sneak upon him

when he was engrossed in a book.

There is a Cat in the Grove

watching from the boughs

as the first saplings in years

finally awaken from their pods.

Our new young wake

with both Dream and Nightmare

flitting between their eyes—

but they are here.

They are here

and that is enough. 

And the Cat seems pleased

to have new quarry to chase

and mewl at until fed.

There is a Cat in the Grove

who the travelers like to point at. 

The humans and the Norn

and the Charr and the Asura

all come and tell us

that it is growing quite old,

and yet it still chases

saplings and pests alike,

and it still jumps into our beds

to share in our warmth,

and it still torments our Luminary

with its mewls and big eyes,

and it still naps where it pleases

in mother's boughs,

in mother's chamber,

but lately it's taken

to napping at the feet of the likeness

of the first of firstborn

who treated it as a friend

and then shared with it our home

and with his kindness made it

the Cat of the Grove.

-End-

--------------

just a little poem I've been working on for the past few days. It was actually a shitpost between myself and @icebrooding about Trahearne and cats but I ended up doing a whole thing with it. I guess it's from a collective secondborn/somewhere in that timeframe POV. Thanks for reading.

[gwtoomanyalts]

Art Party

As I said in my post I know I can’t art, 

  but I thought I’d try my hand at poetry for a start.

For at the party as was plain to see,

  were many fair folk of the Pale Tree.

-

The Sylvari, born of dreams, a mystery yet to unfold,

  their spirits so strong, their leaves so bold.

From the pale tree in pods they are birthed fully grown,

  diverse beauty and grace their forms have all shown.

-

Their nature is kind, their will is so strong,

  they seek to understand, just where they belong.

They explore and discover, with childlike graces,

  and bring hope to all those who see their bright faces.

-

The Sylvari had welcomed all to this party in their home,

  even the massive charr that had decided to roam.

So cherish these plants, with their beauty and heart,

  for they're a beacon of hope, in a world that needs art.

-

To many it seemed this was an occasion to dance,

  and though shy my tiny asura decided to take a chance.

Surely enough there was much fun to be had

  and Rikka found that in deciding to come she was quite glad.

-

- End

[konig-varorson]

The Added, The Removed, and the Changed: Continuity Alterations of Living World Season 1 Return

So last year ArenaNet brought back "most" of LWS1 in 2022 after about 8 years of demands for it to be made permanent. What many people may not know is that, yes, ArenaNet did change things up. Be they for better or wose. As it got brought up while talking with friends in the GW2 subreddit's discord, I decided to write up what these changes are.

Overall: The Investigative Studies and Records

The most obvious additions to the lore span all five episodes, where each one got an achievement called Investigative Study. These were added lore books, using a UI created in Season 4, exploring backstory of various characters and factions.

Flame and Frost namedropped some Icebrood Saga characters like Crecia and Efram, while also delving into why the dredge and Flame joined Scarlet, for example.

From Clockwork Chaos onward, there were also the Investigative Records achievements, which were audio recordings from Scarlet to delve into her character a bit.

All of this stuff is brand new, and provides new insight on characters - especially Scarlet and her motivations.

Additionally, it is worth noting that when LWS1 first released, it was written from a perspective of "the events happen at any point in the personal story" - so you were not strictly "the Pact Commander". This created some dissonance in the original story for how characters reflected their state at the beginning of the Personal Story instead of the end - most notable being Destiny's Edge, who end the personal story claiming to stick with the Pact until the Elder Dragons are no more (specifically Logan doing so), but then when we meet them in LWS1, they're back with their nations doing their deskwork or what have you. That commitment didn't last long, huh? Well, it made sense if you were a level 10 going through LWS1. But the LWS1R firmly cements LWS1 as post-PS, dubbing you the Commander right off the bat to Braham and Rox, yet didn't change any this. Or explained it.

Flame and Frost

In addition to the above, Flame and Frost got one very peculiar change to it, which is arguably the biggest change in the entire LWS1R: Ottilia.

Ottilia is a norn from Cragstead that Braham had a "bit" of a crush on. In the original release, Ottilia was Braham's firm motivation for... the entire season, really. When the player first gets to ask about Ottilia, this is what Braham says:

Ottilia? Who's Ottilia? Well, she lives in Cragstead, and she's... kind of beautiful. I mean sweet. She's nice. Okay?

But in the re-release, Braham says this instead:

Ottilia? That conversation might require some ale. Ottilia is amazing... She's beautiful, and...not interested. But she helped me work through some angst about my family. My mom. I owe her.

Interestingly, despite 'helping him' cope with his issues with Eir, Braham's attitude towards Eir is still very harsh, unchanged from the original release. In fact, despite Braham "getting over her", Braham still writes cringy poems for her. Why say he’s over her, if he still acts like he’s pining for her and even writes cringy teenage puppy love poetry for her? Curious.

And in addition, there is an entire subplot following the entirety of Season 1 removed because the writers wanted to reduce Braham's puppy love.

First, Ottilia showed up in the bonfire in Hoelbrak at the end of Flame and Frost, though the wiki didn't record this unfortunately.

After, from Secret of Southsun to Cutthroat Politics, Ottilia and Braham had monthly dialogues in Cragstead. At the end, Ottilia leaves Braham for a merchant, and Braham joins Rox in leaving Cragstead. This is his motivation for being involved in the rest of LWS1.

In Clockwork Chaos, we first see him complaining about Ottilia. This complaining returns in his banter with Rox during Escape from Lion's Arch.

All three of those sets of dialogues were removed from LWS1Return. Ottilia is never seen by players now. According to Bobby Stein, the change was to "downplay the "puppy love" angle and tie in more as a support system for his strained relationship with his mother".

(Personal Rant: I do not like this change, as it flattens Braham's character, making him almost entirely just about his relationship to Eir with little else about him. Without him going to Rox as emotional support over the Ottilia breakup, their relationship seems simpler as well, like he's just tagging along just because - he has no reason to be involved with Clockwork Chaos, he's just there. Of course, I admit I am bias as back in the early 2010s I had a similarly bad breakup and Braham's bitter reaction to Ottilia was highly relatable for my late-teens self.)

Lastly, Flame and Frost saw a loss of the Lion's Arch refugee camp - NPCs that were tied to the non-returning Secret of Southsun arc vanishing along with it. Lorewise, this camp still existed, as it still gets referenced, and the events at Southsun still occurred. But the NPCs tied to the heirloom collections got moved to Hoelbrak and Black Citadel refugee camps instead.

Sky Pirates of Tyria

In the original release of Dragon Bash and Sky Pirates of Tyria, there were some protestors who showed up in the Grand Piazza - Merrik, Marren, Broll, and Roardina. These four would be protesting the celebration of Dragon Bash the first week, get questioned by Kiel about the assassination attempt in the second week, and call out for a hunt on the assassins afterwards as a point of concern for their own innocence being in question.

A small piece of worldbuilding that is lacking in LWS1 - more on the first part. The part where there were active protests against Dragon Bash. With the actual Dragon Bash returned celebration in Hoelbrak, we got new protestors about the celebration, but it was more of a highlight in the original patch that wasn't part of the story instances, and thus did not get a place in the LWS1R.

A somewhat weird addition is that at the end they added a line of Magnus talking about Southsun Cove's events as if the Commander wasn't there. But all the old reference tags for dialogue reflecting you having done that content in the original LWS1 releases remain. I guess Magnus is a bit senile.

Clockwork Chaos

In addition to Braham+Rox's dialogue about Ottilia, there is another duo dynamic that was changed a lot in this release. That of Hobo-Tron and Marcello DiGiacomo. While these two do still show up in both the Closing Ceremony instance (redubbed The Queen's Address) and Scarlet's Playhouse, there was an entire dynamic between them in open world which is now MIA, and paints the entire spat of the two which continues on into Lion's Arch to this day.

Additionally, a lot of their dialogue in Scarlet's Playhouse itself was simplified, reducing their banter during your fight with Scarlet. Though it didn't provide much depth, as it was just the two name-blaming the other as being connected with Scarlet.

On an aside, in LWS1Return, during Scarlet's Playhouse you confront a hologram of Scarlet... But in the original, it was Scarlet Briar herself. Odd change.

There's also the change of the Watchknight models, but that discussion has been done to death back when the content released. Here's referencing that can o' wurms.

Tower of Nightmares

Similar to the two above, there are some open world dialogues that did not make the cut for LWS1. Most can be found on the wiki. The most famous of these dialogue, or rather infamous, is Kasmeer telling Marjory at the end of the arc that her dress that she's been wearing the entire time in the Tower was an illusion, and that she was naked all along. With the change in society and media, I can understand the mentality of the changes. But this is also a very curious aspect of Kasmeer's mentality as former nobility - at this point in the story, Kasmeer has not yet entered that "adventurer's mindset", and still favors not tearing a dress over her own safety.

In addition to that infamous dialogue, there is other stuff. Most critical are the prologue and epilogues to the arc. The entire time of the camp being established with Marjory and Kasmeer studying the veil that hid the Tower is MIA, and so is the gathering afterwards in The Dead End.

Aside from the cut content surrounding our dear proto-Dragon's Watch, we also have a lot of Bloomanoo and Penelopee dialogues cut. For those who weren't around in LWS1, these are two quaggans first introduced in ToN, who had cameos in almost every (or every other) episode until they settled down in the rebuilt Lion's Arch at the end of Season 2. They would often show up in a place that would soon to be attacked by Scarlet's or Mordremoth's forces, making them a hilarious harbinger of doom duo.

Also not making it was the quaggans refugees who took refuge in Fort Salma. There wasn't much, but those poor quaggans.

Lastly, did you know that the finale of Tower of Nightmares was also the very first time we met Belinda? She even had dialogue for whether or not you were involved.

Overall, Tower of Nightmares had the most content cut from its return. Mainly, I imagine, because it was worldbuilding fluff and not part of the Golden Path, like Ottilia, the Dragon Bash Protestors, and Hobo-Tron.

Battle for Lion's Arch

Surprisingly, Battle for Lion's Arch was perhaps the most comprehensive and inclusive of all five releases, making the fewest reductions, changes, or additions. To the point that as I write this, I can only think of two points (besides the Assault Knight model change).

First, we have Canach. While he does show up in Fort Marriner, his audio lines and dialogue with Sheriff Siriam were removed. He was also removed from Escape from Lion's Arch instance, though it a minor appearance.

Escape from Lion's Arch is the second point. Due to the reduced area of the zone players could access during that story instance, several events and related dialogues were removed. The two critical pieces were the escorts of the ogres and the racing moas - especially, curiously, the racing moas.

Though the wiki does not have the dialogue (for some reason), it was a plot point that during the escort for the moas, the group woudl be attacked by a giant Toxic Wurm Queen, leading to the follow-up event. Narratively, this wurm queen eats the moas. Tigg even commented on it, blaming the players for the moas' deaths. And in Dragon Bash's return in Hoelbrak, we get a new set of moas, including one named after one of the dead moas.

But in LWS1R, the moas (and other escort NPCs) are there to interact with and they vanish, presumably escaping the city without issue. The moas never die - they survive now.

But the dialogue of their death remains.

[prettylikepeonies]

Stats

Sw 68.8

Gw1 64🔓🔑 -🎁 Dead Poets Society book - reached 14 june

Gw2 60🔒 -🎁 The Picture Of Dorian Gray book

Gw3 58🔒 -🎁 The Goldfinch book

Gw4 55🔒 - 🎁 The Unabridged Poems Of Sylvia Plath

Ugw 53🔒 -🎁 Black Swan book

Lw 57.1 kg (dec 2023) -> 5.6 kg to my lowest weight

[littlefoxgw2]

A GW2 Poem

The clock is counting down time Everyone's losing their minds 3 lanes defeated "S15" "We're beaten" Then South lane one-burns the Octovine

[roderickvonhogshipping]

Every now and again I see that someone has discovered ‘Farewell to the Firstborn’ and I smile a little to see it’s still being appreciated after all this time.

I am rarely if ever connected to it, I think. Even in the beginning, I wasn’t particularly noticeable (which is not a bad thing). Thornheart credited me for the poem--which was essentially the lyrics, though two-three stanzas were removed so that it wouldn’t be twenty minutes to sing (heh)--but the way music works, I don’t think the lyricist is generally considered to be that notable. (Thornheart was always exceptionally good to me, though. I still consider a great privilege to have gotten to collaborate with her).

It was a strange stroke of luck the song exists at all. Thornheart held a giveaway, I got second and the person who got first picked gems. Thornheart was kind enough to offer a song as one of the prizes, and then allowed me to present her with a poem to sing. I’d spent several years with Trahearne (and GW2) as my big interest, and was frustrated by what happened with him. So I took an old half-written poem I’d made for him and expanded it. I gave it to her, and Thornheart (who sang it, selected the stanzas for the lyrics, and made the original melody) and the gentlemen (John Robert Matz and Christ Garden, the first of who also worked on the original melody) who played the music were brilliant.

And it exists, and people continue to discover and enjoy it.

I’m not really here anymore, but there’s a little piece of my passion that lingers. I don’t even think there are all that many Triannoc shippers, although there seem to be more folks who like Trahearne than there were back in the day, and GW2 and its fandom has moved on from the time and place I inhabited (I still play GW2 now and then, but I’m really not in the fandom anymore). Years of playing with lore and characters and creating fics and art and poems and playlists and edits and meta and other things...not really for anyone, except me. But others could enjoy it.

I’m glad people like that song. Thornheart’s singing, the melody and music she and John and Christ created, are brilliant. I’m touched when people can see how hard I worked on the poem too. Glad all those years of obsession shone through, I guess, haha. I think that’s a fine thing to show up in art. And I’m glad... it feels strange sometimes, but that little part of me, even without me, adds something interesting to the world, I think. Something felt.

I’m not coming back, but this is a thought that only really makes sense to be had here.

[red-catmander]

(furiously opening my canvas before pride month is up) I'VE STILL GOT TIME

lulum......

[bioluminescent-obscurity]

This is Just to Say

I have eaten the hog that was in the jungle

and which you were probably saving for blighting

Forgive me it was edible so heroic and so vile

[draw-you-coward]

insert poem later

👁👄👁 here i am once again, to write abt boza thinking abt sex

(but not like . actua

~*~

Roza still doesn’t quite get it.

Yes, he understands things better now. He understands intimacy, sensation, electrochemistry. He understands infatuation; how it draws people together until it either dies or resurrects into something devoted enough to approach immortality. He understands—well, he still doesn’t quite understand “crushes,” but he knows what it is like to dig himself too deep, to use his every waking hour to prepare a resting place for an eidolon to lie in his thoughts, to reach into his body with grimy hands and scoop his insides out until there is nothing left in his wretched shell but longing.

He lived in that grave for five fucking years. He knows it.

What he still does not understand is this… pornography. It all seems rather harsh, he considers as he tilts the book to the side, as if that will provide him with a new perspective. Beyond its cover Laranthir watches him with bright eyes and ubiquitous patience. He has not yet made a baleful comment about Roza “not engaging with the material,” so perhaps there is hope for genuine discussion here. That is, if for five minutes he can think with his brain instead of his—

“Here.” Roza jabs at the printed page. His sharp finger does not catch against the paper’s manufactured smoothness. “Here, when he looks at her and he thinks of…” He grimaces. “Of being inside her body. It is so incredibly vulgar—how is that an appetizing feeling for her? To know that she is just there for her flesh to be consumed.”

Laranthir takes the book, scanning the lines rapidly. (He is actually quite a fast reader, Roza had been surprised to find out. There may be hope for noon blooms after all.) “You seem to be inserting that imagery yourself, Roza. There’s nothing particularly graphic about the passage preceding the scene. He looks at her body—albeit a little disrespectfully, yes—he wants her, and he indicates this to her. She agrees. There is nothing denoting… voracity except for his body language.”

It is in the intent of the act. The heavy, carnal callousness of it. Roza’s expression curdles in involuntary disgust as he tries to employ this… “empathy” tactic Muirne is trying to teach him. He shudders internally. Eugh.

Laranthir’s sharp eyes gauge his reaction, small as it was. “That is very interesting. You find that repulsive, but not the act itself?”

Roza frowns. The act itself… as depicted in the book? He does not understand.

“With Trahearne,” Laranthir clarifies before he can ask.

Oh. Roza feels himself begin to blush, and tries to hide it behind a cough. “That is not… it is different. With Trahearne.”

“Because you already have feelings for him?”

“No.” Roza smoothes his hand over his branches as he considers how to answer while still keeping his privacy. “Trahearne… does not approach sex like it is fueled by lust. He knows I do not like that.” Keep the sentences short and succinct, so he does not give more information than he intends to. “It is simply an extension of what we already are.”

Laranthir leans towards him, an inch and two-fifths closer. His voice tenderizes—barely enough for the subject, but at least enough to stifle what is surely inquisitive nosiness. “What is it like, in that case, with Trahearne?”

With Trahearne.

“With Trahearne it is…” Roza begins, and gets that far before his words die in his throat. He ducks his head under his hand, a habit he picked up from a tall and long-dead lover. He wrote a poem about this, actually, though he would never dare show it to anyone but its deuteragonist. The ink bled from his pen and formed into words about how Trahearne can make him feel like glass that is about to shatter, like a deity of all the shared sensations between them, like a votary soulbound to an eternity of service, all within the breadth of an hour. How pleasure is not driven by lust but is rather an extension, a gift, a promise.

With Trahearne it is…

“Not like this,” is all he says. He hopes he is not still blushing—his blasted bark doesn’t hide it at all. Other Roza (the clean, beautiful one) would never have this problem.

Laranthir’s posture straightens minutely. Roza can tell he is about to ask for clarification, so he sends a glare his way, superficial but with intent. It is only there to guard his secrets, not to drive away his loved ones. The one in front of him understands, even if he does not truly—he gives an exasperated smile, and does not push.

And Roza, who is peeling himself off from the inside out, blossoms a little bit more.

~*~

[sanddollarpoems]

On the high of winning

The feeling that I'm important

Feeling popular

A strange, uncommon thing

Yet I warm myself with it

I'll take the small victory

Enjoy being enjoyed

Accept the accolades

And keep them in my pocket

I know the dip will come

The silent suffocation

That feeling of inadequacy

So strong I can taste the bitterness

Of being insignificant

I'll hold my trophy tonight

And bask in the moment

Of being worthy

And let myself smile

As I fall asleep

[uselessidiotsquad]

Short fic challenge 12? ✨

Ty for the ask :) Short fic ahoy! This got buried under drafts D: sorry it took so long!

12. An exchange of gifts or mementos.

Ruby fidgeted with the wrapping paper on the small box, waiting for it's intended owner to arrive. She squinted at the new crease she had just noticed, trying to soften the line with the pad of her finger. Considering herself a fairly prolific wrapper any small error or flaw was inexcusable. Maybe if Riag took long enough, she could go and re-wrap it to get that ironed out.

The decision was made for her when the other Sylvari returned from his quick outing to purchase more river rocks. He tended to use up small rocks that he found as drainage in the bottom of his potted plants and given that his mint had recently exploded into growth, he was subsequently re-potting a lot of mint.

They stood facing each other for a few seconds of pause, before Riaghael frowned and said,

"Ruby, I swear by Mother's Boughs that better not be for me."

"Well, too bad! It is!" She stuck her tongue out.

"I won't accept it! I haven't even gotten you back yet for the watering can."

"That was an impulse buy because it made me think of you. I've been working on this one for a while."

"No! Save it for Wintersday or something, I'm still behind on out gifting you."

"Does that mean I win?"

"Not on your life." Riaghael grumbled as he set down his bag of rocks, careful to balance them against the wall so they didn't spill out. “I’ve been too busy wrangling my herbs to even think of gifting anything.”

“Good, then don’t think about it and just take it! It’s not only for you.”

He sent a quizzical look her way but didn’t add any other questions. They would be at this for hours if he didn’t go ahead and give in now. It wasn’t an uncommon sight for Ruby to chase him around the Grove yelling for him to accept a give, the whole while him adamantly refusing to. With a dramatic sigh, he put a hand out and the gift was plopped in it. Riaghael noted with amusement that the wrapping paper had a variety of mushrooms, each with different expressions on them.

Tearing the the paper off carefully, he opened the box and was met with two sheets of fancy parchment, that had been rolled into tubes and tied with pieces of ribbon. Since they both looked the same, he opened the roll closest to him. Unfurling it revealed a fancy inked border, swirling shapes and interlocking circles but the center contents were a little harder to make out. A lot of charcoal seemed to have been used to get the impression of whatever the parchment had been resting on. It smelled vaguely of some chemical, he assumed that it had been for setting the charcoal so it wouldn’t smudge.

He was able to make out letters and words in it, eyes widening in surprised as he recognized the Orrian script. Riaghael had picked up enough of it from Trahearne and their mission in Orr to be able to make out a good amount of words. Recognizing it as the poem from the tablet in the Priory that the Firstborn had often spoke of - however, this one was different. The script was less chipped and worn, the lines of it standing out clearly. And most importantly, there was a line he did not recognize at the bottom. Not entirely sure his translation of it was correct, the closest he could make of it was ‘And I will chase it back to you.’

In surprise, he looked backed to Ruby who had an expression of delight and excitement.

“Okay - so - remember when I said we had weird anomalies from the Mists when I was off in Jahai?”

“Yes?”

“Well, one of them was from Orr.”

“...yes?”

“And I may or may not have stumbled on the full poem that Trahearne used to ramble about?”

“You’re joking.” He said in disbelief, looking back at the paper in his hand with renewed respect. “How does that work?”

“I’ve just stopped questioning things at this point. Oh! But! I asked the Priory to make rubbings of the full one. So I thought, why don’t I get one for each of you?”

Riaghael groaned loudly, “Would it kill you to tone down a little bit? How am I supposed to out gift that! And why don’t you give it to him? You did all the work of it.”

“I have things from Elona I’m planning on gifting him. The workings of the Awakened are going to keep him busy for months. I think it’d mean more if it came from you.”

The necromancer considered protesting but decided against it. Reading the last line again, feeling a warmth start in his chest, Riaghael hadn’t realized he had started smiling.

[astralarias-old]

It’s almost 1:00 am and I woke up and I’m thinking. About angst. Trahearne angst.

Imagine the Commander, after HoT, returning to Trahearne’s office in Fort Trinity. They clear out his belongings, the dust that has built up only worsening the tears that threaten to spill. Trahearne’s familiar scent lingers still, and there’s one of his leaves lying on his desk.

It crumbles as the Commander touches it, and their heart breaks all over again.

And then, as they sort through the drawers - mostly official Pact documents and the like - something catches their eye.

A stack of poems, bound together in a beautiful golden string. The paper is ink-stained and worn but as the Commander picks it up, they can sense its strength. Written in elegant handwriting, golden ink, on the front page —

To the Commander, my greatest friend and ally. One day, I will find the courage to give you these poems. Until that day, I hope that you know that I love you dearly.

There is no holding back tears as the Commander flicks through them, pouring over Trahearne’s words as if, should they read them enough, it will bring him back. But the room remains silent, and their tears blot the ink.

[floret-fiction]

Carved Poem

Darkness pays Orr a visit.

With billowing robes of blackened silk,

She beckons us, arms outstretched.

I see my brothers walk forward, greet her as a friend.

So many fold themselves into her embrace.

And even over their cries, and the roars of the beasts.

I hear Darkness call to me with a promise.

But I close myself. I will not join her yet.

Another call is more beautiful,

And I will chase it back to you.

[commander-scaea]

What We Found in the Echoes

She was past this, she was sure of it, she was past this. It wasn’t supposed to hurt anymore, she had moved on from that dark night shrouded in vines. She had accepted what happened and she was living her life in his memory, as he had asked. So how, how, did one stone tablet leave her crumbling as if only seconds had passed since she had been forced to slide Caladbolg between his ribs? It hadn’t stung like this in a very long time, not even since reliving her life and all of those wretched memories in The Domain of The Lost.

And yet, ten simple lines have sent her crashing to her knees in the middle of a battle long since passed with sobs wracking her small frame. She remembers this poem. She remembers countless moments shared before sunrise agonizing over the missing line, the scholar in both of them craving the final piece. She remembers poring over possibilities and lying next to him while they camped on cliffsides after the Cleansing and after ridding the world of Zhaitan. The moments they had shared as they explored the treasures and secrets of Arah, finding troves of knowledge and scores of poems and songs and epics, but never finding the last piece of his favorite.

Until now. And now the wound in her heart has been torn open again, by something so small, yet so powerful. She had never wished he was here more than she did now, if only to see this. Within seconds she berates herself for the thought, Trahearne wouldn’t want to be thrown again onto the claws of an Elder Dragon, especially after it was her mistakes and her failures that empowered it enough to seemingly rend reality asunder. She shouldn’t want him here at the epicenter of yet another war, yet another calamity. But, but if he were here, maybe she could breathe again, as she did before, maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone, maybe ....... maybe she could lay her staff down, for only a moment, and be held in a way she hasn’t been in what feels like a lifetime.

She hears the crackle of her communicator, a concerned Taimi at the other end, and rises. In her pack she manages to find enough parchment and charcoal to take a rubbing of the tablet. After tucking it safely away, she climbs down from that tower and leaves the battlefield echoes behind. When this is over, when she finally has the time, she will take the finished poem to the Grove, read it to him and pretend that he can hear her.

“Darkness pays Orr a visit.

With billowing robes of blackened silk,

She beckons us, arms outstretched.

I see my brothers walk forward, greet her as a friend.

So many fold themselves into her embrace.

And even over their cries, and the roars of the beasts.

I hear Darkness call to me with a promise.

But I close myself. I will not join her yet.

Another call is more beautiful,

And I will chase it back to you.”

[roelski-gw2]

It turns out enough Skritt together can make quite a beautiful poem..

[renkungw2]

Scholar Selina in Durmand Priory