Legends of Kepler: Age of Erin

CHAPTER II: NOSTALGIA FOR THE NIGHT (8)

CHAPTER II: NOSTALGIA FOR THE NIGHT (8)      

"You are the loveliest person, Yeradoc." says Leyra. "It's so hard for me to see you like this, and to leave this place, and this service like this."

"Don't worry about me," exclaims Yeradoc. “I am very old; I cannot bear much. When I fisrt hear those roars, I knew instantly, my soul would be poisoned. Before the blood spilled of my brothers by them evils."

"If only we could have prevented it earlier"

"You are not to blame for anything, daughter" replies the man. “You and the army did the best you could; and because of it, you defended the honor of my people, successfully. Our town rejoices again. But the end always comes at us, when we are not prepared for it. I don't know how many days I’ve left, but when my final day arrives, I will welcome it with love, for my soul will rest in peace knowing that you have saved these meadows from the impending destruction. You have shown that we are stronger than we thought we were. And perhaps when I die, I may see your beautiful face again, in the Depths of Minaar."

The woman grabbed the man's hand, tightly. Her eyes watered, but before tears fell, the man continued.

"Don't cry, my daughter; I haven't asked for your presence to feel sorry for me." the count says. “Rather, let's seize the moment, to find out your whereabouts. Have you already delegated your service to the Clarice?”

"Not yet," exclaims Leyra. “I intended to speak to him after this. It's a great moment for him. I don't want to ruin it.”

"You will have to," the count replies. "He's not going to take this lightly."

"I know," exclaims the woman. “I’m prepared, as much as it hurts. My path cannot depend uon the feelings of others. "

"Just try compassion, daughter of life" exclaims the man. "The neglect of growth is synonymous of deep pain for some."

"And a symbol of glory for others." answers Leyra.

“I hope your words come true, my royal count.” continues the women, standing up. “I hope we see each other later. And maybe then, it will all make sense. "

"So it will, my daughter." responds Yeradoc."So it will."

The woman got up slowly, as the cold and deteriorated man received a kissed on his paled forehead; a tear fell from the woman's eyes, onto the man's white face.

"May the goddesses of light illuminate your path, daughter of the creator" exclaims Yeradoc. "It has been a pleasure, spending this time with you."

"The pleasure has been mine, serving the best count upon the history of this realm."

The woman opened the door and left. She went through some passages, between the back of the great tavern. The path led her to a wooden hatch in a wide, high hallway. She opened the floodgates, and the preciousness of the night unfolded singularly; as magic just happened. A bridge continued from the entrance, and this one carried the depths towards Eldrįner; it meant the departure of the kingdom. The night treasured a mystical dance around a blue energy that gushed out of the high trees. Dozens of azure and green fireflies were approaching the young woman; at her left side, a small waterfall prostrated below her; blessed by the divine hands of Elgoneth. At her right hand, the fall of the waters was displayed serenely; unfolding as a magical event of phosphorescent flashes among the sacred algae’s community. She took a few steps across the bridge, closing her eyes. Ahead of her was the beginning of a new chapter in her story. And behind her, was the presence of the incarnated nostalgia. The one whose intuition did not stop rumbling, to follow in the footsteps of the princess of the king of kings. A man, a friend.

"I knew I would find you here," exclaims the man. "What is happening with you, Leyra?"

" Gėovan, you must listen to me." responds Leyra. "I need you to deliver this for me."

The woman takes out of her bag, a small parchment; written in her own handwriting. She handed it nervously, to the sorcerer.

"What is this?" Gėovan  exclaims. "Letter of Dismissal?"

The man then, began to read the parchment.

“Liénmiel, II: IV.

Before the providence of the path proclaimed by the father of heavens, and the approval of the Royal Council and present rector: I, Leyra from the Forests of the South, establish in this royal scroll, the definitive resignation of my service as the Ruby Seneschal of the Kingdom of Eleanor. The reasons are those personal and urgent, in favor of the continuity of my unknown destiny, which everyone is aware of, and the recurrence of my father in recent days for the inclination towards a new beginning, a new adventure. My stay in here has been finally intercepted by my father, who has given me the clear signal; the moment of my transformation. I will leave tonight, and continue my path towards the great mountains of Fëhler, where my father has called me to reach the summit, and find the myth of the Mythical Minaar. And with the pain in my soul, through falling tears, I write this improvised resolution, because I do not have the heart to express this in person. But be well aware, the hope sentenced between these lines will always prevail, because I hope one day to return, and bring you the singularity of a memory, and the miracle proof of the fountain, so all the kids from this town could believe in their journeys, in their wildest dreams. It has been a pleasure to share these last years with all of you, for there I’ve found unforgettable moments, and I would have loved to do a big farewell, but as the council recommended, it is better to leave this way. Inadvertent, for if I had shared these plans with you, you wouldn’t probably let me go. And as much as I love this about you, I must continue. I must go on. I must get better. And hope one day you can forgive me, and understand me, because this path of growth requires the complete devotion of my being, and the absolute will of the heart from all my intentions.

The magma ring will be delivered to Clarice Gėovan, under the instructions of the Master of the Royal Council, Count Yeradoc, to whom I want to express all my thanks and appreciate his quick approval, and for been my confidant, as he has been able to understand my path, especially the last few years. Henceforth, the council will be able to explain to you in more detail, the purposes of my departure, if you want to grasp it more clearly.

May the light of the First Man* bless your beautiful lands forever. It has been a true honor, spending these years with you, and I hope I have been an exemplary woman, and have satisfied all the needs of my beautiful position and service.

Beforehand,

Leyra of the South

Drafted on Day 17 of the Ínfini Cycle, of the Year 9408, Fourth Énodus; Noul I, Seul X, from Tremul IV. The Third Age.

Madmalelle* "

"Are you serious?” shouts Gėovan. "You're not really pretending to leave, are you?"

The woman removed the reddish ring from her finger, and handed it to the man.

"Here," exclaims Leyra. "I know you will take care of it, better than I did."

"This moment could not have come." replies Gėovan.

"It has, my dear friend. I must go to the frozen mountain." responds Leyra. “Gėovan, someone important is waiting for me there. There relies my destiny."

“Look around you, Leyra,” replies the sorcerer, “if there is a place where your destiny can be found, that place is here. The elves love you, the council adores you; Yeradoc is only approving this because you are asking him to do so! This is not the best for this town, nor for this family. You still cannot see it, do you? In you relies the resurrection of Eleanor. In you exists the next queen of the south."

"It's not like that. I am not what you think I am."

"Then who are you?"

The woman was silent, and said nothing more. Until the man suddenly continued.

"A few years ago, I read your book without your permission, Leyra." Gėovan responds. “I know the story you hide. I know where you come from. But that's not the problem. The problem is where you want to go. That mission is a mission of no return. No one has reached those mountains and has come out alive to tell so. I know why you are doing it, I know what your intentions are, but the souls from the beyond are treacherous, and the fountain has always been a myth Leyra. The Minaar doesn’t exist! You have no idea where you are going, because nobody knows what it is."

"Well, I'll find out there," answers Leyra. "I must follow my path of healing, and I must suppress all this sadness, if I wish to advance. Please, understand."

“You don’t heal by suppressing, Leyra; you heal by releasing." replies Gėovan. “And that path will not lead you to your healing, that path will lead you to death, Leyra. Why would you risk your life to find a place that doesn't exist?"

The woman takes refuge in silence, her gaze falls and her cheeks turn pastel. In her mind prevailed, the image of a glorious Raēn.

"It's him again, isn´t it?"

"Gėovan, this time is real."

"I just–I can´t believe this," replies the sorcerer. “I can´t believe all these years, I was really in a fantasy. Did this love never exist?"

"I do not belong to you, Gėovan." the woman answers, with a cracking voice. “And you don't belong to me either. You are my best friend, and you always will be. And I hope one day, you understand my position, and I hope one day I can make the amends for this damage. I must continue. I must leave. I must go on "

Leyra gave her a kiss on his cheek, turned quickly, and was lost in tears by the suspended bridge that ingrained her in the external bushes of the southern forest; it was a melody upon the eventide. It was a sweet nostalgia, scattered on the marvelous screen of the night. Among the whisper of the heavens, along the sigh of the forests. Among the fluorescent mangroves, where the elves witnessed in the distance, the respite of a dismissal. Thus, beneath the shadows of eternity, both beings knew that the Duchess of the Woods would leave, and would never return. Although they promised in their hearts, they would live forever from each other’s memory, and not from each other’s fears.

In the heights of the firmament, upon a floating and dark cloud, two dragons were astonished, before the great decision of the woman. They had been watching her, all night long.

"What have she done, Daēl?" exclaims a dragon. "How does she knows where she’s going?"

"Your mother's intuition is powerful, Hera." Daēl responds. "It’s the kiss of her farewell."

“Do you think she will come back? Maybe because of him?"

"No, she will not return." responds Daēl. “It’s a love that is unrequited. Your mother's heart has another owner."

"It's because of my father, right?" said Hera.

The giant dragon said nothing.

"Why don't you tell me anything?" asks Hera, laughing.

"Because you’re going to get more excited than you already are!" exclaims Daēl, uncomfortable. “The course of the earthlings is none of our concern, and you shouldn't get too excited beca–

"Blah, blah, blah, what a party-pooper you are!" responds Hera. “Come on! Where’s the joy for your best friend? Don't deny to me that you're a little excited they could meet again! I mean, how does she knows he's alive?"

“Because her heart is strong,” Daēl exclaims. "And it’s linked to the creation."

"This is amazing!"

"Well, that's enough." Daēl exclaims. "Let's go now."

"Now?!" exclaims Hera. "Let's stay a little longer, please!"

"Hera is enough," Daēl replies. "We must return to the temple before King Wėzhreem cuts off your wings for extending your time, and mines for allowing it!"

"You are so boring!"

Both dragons flew into the heights of the night, entering the depths of the vast and beautiful skies. And in the distance, their eyes raved in the beautiful beauty of the direction of a majesty upon the highest planes. A realm of delirium fests. An embodied dream. A blessing from the creator. The great kingdom of dragons. The Hanging Garden, of the Golden Raēn.