nysalogs | locked to house #4

We did not count our years as you mortals do, but I would say I am a few millennia old. I know it has been a little over a thousand years since the fall of my people at the very least. As for whether or not we are from the same realm, I encountered the Dalish child before. As for Zevran, considering he mistakes me for one of the Dalish, I would say tis safe to assume that he comes from the same Thedas.

[Then there was the other young elf from Tevinter, he was obviously a sad remnant of his captured people, but this one may not be familiar with him so he did not think to bring him up.]

We warred upon ourselves, then humans came to scavenge the remains like carrion upon a corpse. I know very well what happened, I have lived through it, isolated as I may have been.

Wait--wait back up there, several millennia? As in, thousands of years??

[ Rhys just needs to full-stop right there and clear that up because yeah, sure, sometimes people live a...while. But several thousand years?? That's a bit beyond his ability to like, consider. Normally. ]

Yes, thousands of years. I am immortal in that I do not age, as I have said.

[A few times actually. Apparently this one needed to see it applied before it sunk in.]

Well yeah but like...I figured maybe a few centuries or something. Max! Not thousands of years....

[ Rhys runs a hand back through his hair in disbelief as he lets out a whoosh of air. ]

This explains...so much.

[ Namely why Abelas is such a grandpa about stuff like bathrooms!! ]

[Sometimes he wondered why he bothered. This was onesuch time. Of all the things he had said it was his age that got to him.]

And what, pre tell, does it explain?

[ Look it's the one thing that's still hard for him to take in alright? Cultures and civilizations died out or wore away over time constantly and now Rhys lives on a planet filled with magic. Immortality--real immortality--is still a far-off novelty. ]

Why you're so angry all the time? If I was as old as you I would be too. You're like, classic grouchy-old-man dude.

[Just when Abelas thinks he's reached the low point of the conversation Rhys surprises him once again. Again, out of everything he had described, this one assumed it was being old that had left him bitter.]

I was unaware mortals associated age with annoyance. I can assure you, if my annoyance accumulated with the sum of my years I would have lost the will to live centuries ago. I suffered fools no better in my youth than I do now.

[Granted, he was just as much of a fool in his youth, not to mention back then he could at least manage to crack a smile once and a while.]

Well that's morbid.

[ And doesn't help Rhys's view that Abelas is as "charming" as he is old, but if it's true that it has nothing to do with it, then it lends weight to the idea that the elf (sorry, I can't remember the word kjdgs) was just born disgruntled.

Unlucky. ]

You mean you've always been this "pleasant"?

I was raised in the Temple of Mythal to perform a duty. Foolishness was not something well tolerated.

[It happened regardless, you couldn't herd that many youths in one spot and expect them to behave, but they were disciplines accordingly. He had no doubt the other would probably be interested in the hot-headed child he had been, but he had no intention of indulging Rhys.]

Not to mention humans had yet to be when I was a child.

Hah I knew there had to be one!

[ Rhys sort of bursts that out all of a sudden mid-way through, be he recovers quickly and explains: ]

--Sorry. I meant a world where there were elves and no humans. I was totally talking to this other elf about that like, two weeks ago! He thought you guys had to have existed for us to put you in books and stuff but we really don't have Elves on Pandora. Or anywhere.

Humans do exist in my world, we Elvhen simply predated them. By the time our empire collapsed, there were enough of them to scavenge the remains, and enslave those of my people that yet remained.

[Yet another thing to add to his "reasons to be bitter" jar.]

Ooooh....uhh. [ w e l p that got awkward fast ] That's. Your world was one of those huh?

[ "Those" being one where humans apparently moved in and enslaved other people which...yeah okay it happens back home, but it's not generally an entire people that's oppressed? Dahl went through that phase of criminal labour, Atlas had their turning-kids-into-assassins, and Hyperion...more or less terrorized a planet full of the remnants of the former.

It wasn't a race thing though?? ]

I'm...sorry. For that.

[ Rhys isn't from Abelas's world and maybe it's meaningless coming from a human who isn't involved or doesn't know the fell scope of it all, but he feels like he should at least say something. ]

[He continued writing as he spoke, and surprisingly his tone was not as biting and scornful as it was previously. The human was making an effort not to be offensive, he could respect that.]

Tis not the fault of a single human, much less one that has never set foot in Thedas.

[It was a nice sentiment, but there was a reason the Elvhen fell, and it was by their own doing.]

My people were not innocent in such matters themselves. It was not a utopia by any means but... there was much worth remembering if not preserving.

Is that what you're doing? With the writing I mean. You seem to take a lot of notes.

[ Just as an observation. Rhys tries not to run into Abelas if he can help it since they haven't gotten along too well so far, but he has seen the man writing rather diligently once or twice now. ]

[He finally looked up to the human, then glanced back down to his work. The green ink had an odd shimmer to it.]

Something to that effect. There is much that I have forgotten after so many years, I would like to preserve what I can before even that meager bit is lost forever.

[ It's an unusual color for notes as far as Rhys knows it, but somehow he doubts that Abelas's world came supplied with red and black pens or highlighters. Or notebooks. ]

That's cool. [ It sounds entirely tedious to him but it's probably a pretty important thing in the grand scheme of things. ]

What sorts of stuff are you writing down?

Memories.

[He should probably elaborate for the human. As much as he enjoyed being vague and cryptic, if it would save his from another round of inane questions, he may as well give up the information willingly.]

Tis Veilfire writing, [He gestures to the green flame on the candle near where he was working.] it allows me to convey more than merely words on paper as your forms of writing are limited to.

Clearly you've never heard of vlogging.

[ Writing is not the only medium humans use in the future now Abelas!! They have expanded in new, thrilling, and frivolous ways! Now anyone can make a poor-quality video in their computer room and upload it to the ECHO net. ]

What does the ink do?

No, I have not.

[Nor does he think he'll care for it. It would no doubt be more crude and needlessly complicated, as he's come to expect from human technology.]

It allows me to convey memories, or even emotions.

Wait, emotions as in--as in like happy, sad, angry? That sort of stuff??

[ holy shit dude ]

How?

Yes, that which one wishes to convey. Explaining how would require explaining the entire basic function of magic to you, I do not think you would understand it.

[He heaved a sigh and tried the simplify it the best he could. It was a lost art even among Thedas from his understanding, explaining it to one who likely had never seen a spell in their life was... difficult.]

The simplest way I can put it is that Veilfire is the memory of a flame from the realm from which I draw magic. Tis formed by spirits who have never experienced a true flame. [He held his hand to the flame and let it dance along the skin without pulling his hand back.] It gives off light and it cannot burn, but it has unique properties that those with the understanding can make use of.

Ahah...wow. You are uh, you're right. I pretty much got, like...none...of that.

[ Rhys is just going to admit that outright there, no shame just a little bit of awkward. He has no idea how one draws magic from lit or unlit flames and alternate realities or whatever Abelas is talking about there, there's no use trying to bluff his way through that. It would just be a train wreck. ]

Is it sort of like if I read it I'd see what you're writing down?

[Well the effort was made to explain it, better he confuse the man than the man start whining at him about it.]

Yes, in essence. Or, depending on how I wrote it down. You could behold a memory as if you were there, or you could simply feel the words as I felt them.

[ He tried! Which is more than Rhys expected so colour his pleasantly, if confusedly, surprised c: ]

.....Can I read it?

[He looked down at what he was writing currently. Unfinished, and.... a bit too personal to be sharing with the human. Tales of old friends, of his culture from the perspective of his wild youth. Not something he really wanted getting out to the human who would no doubt enjoy it too much.]

Not this one.

[He rifled through his notes until he finds one he felt was more suitable for sharing, and offers it to the human. A simple description of the Temple of Mythal as he had left it. At first it would look like little more than fancy squiggly gibberish written in pretty green ink, but the meaning would start to sort itself out and images would play through Rhys' mind as though he were recalling a memory.

It is a memory of an ancient temple, there is a bittersweet sense of familiarity with it, it is both a comfort and a reminder of what once was. There is an undeniable beauty to the place, even if it was little more than a ruin. Some of its wealth remained intact after millennia. And it ended with the greatest treasure of the Temple, while it wouldn't look impressive at first glance, the feeling surrounding it was conveyed through the memory. There was a hunger to it, and being from Abelas' perspective, whispers could be heard at the back of Rhys' mind. It would sound like nonsense to him, but the meaning was translated, an understand of what the odd pool was. The power it held within it, and the unyielding compulsion to protect it. The memory ends with a wrenching sense of loss.]

Edited 2017-09-08 03:10 (UTC)

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It's okay Rhys. He's an elf. Don't feed into his self-importance

how can someone so cool be such a negative nancy!!!

a thousand years stuck with the world's most depressing job

he was a tax attorney wasn't he

More like boss of a bunch of shut-ins stuck while protecting a haunted puddle

a haunted puddle...............

supposedly had the knowledge of all his former bosses in it. Y'know last bit of his culture and all

it had ALL the grouches is what you're saying

well, yes, but they leaned more towards the angsty side. It WAS called the Well of Sorrows.

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