Elandir Fei'reiwalle
From Valwiki
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| Real Name: | Elandir Elvewyn Fei'reiwalle | |
| Gender: | Male | |
| Theme Song: | Call to the Dance: Leahy Family | |
| Age: | 130 | |
| Country: | Khlaria | |
| Eye Colour: | Sea Blue | |
| Hair: | Golden, Ascan Blonde | |
| Favoured Weapon: | 'Tears of Mother Lo' A rapier with a twisted blade, filigreed with the striations of a leaf | |
| Major skills: | Singing, Dancing | |
| Occupation: | An Elven Bard, Wandering the land in search of nothing and everything. | |
| Temperament: | Aloof, but pleasant | |
Contents |
Story
Notice, Story is subject to the author taking embelishments or being incorrect
"Asca Dágnir was the home of these elves and once was a great elvish kingdom ruled by the Lirinen family. As time went on the rulership of Asca Dágnir was split to several vassal kings whom ruled different parts of the kingdom. The Flood destroyed Asca Dágnir, taking it to the ocean's depths along with many other locations. The Ascans, however, survived such and still roam the world today, lost." -Elf Wiki
The Kingdoms of Asca Dagnir: The Musical Court of Fei'Reiwalle
The elves of Asca Dagnir were a proud people, the lineage of elves that extended back to some of their earliest, and purist people. The great central kingdom--countless years ago--split into many houses. These houses grew into their own vassal kingdoms, where nobles of considerable power and clout worked together to administer to the elven people. Known and socialized through the elven people were the long standing respect for the arts, the elven arts including many things from music to combat, from hunting and tracking to magic and mysticism. Of the smallest kingdoms of these vassals, one place of honor was the House Fei'Reiwalle, which extends back to some of the original Ascans, as folklore even forgotten to some elven historians suggest, one of many companions to find the honor of becoming a Lord, had the gift of music. So beautiful was his skilled hands at the violin, that it was said his very music sang in the intonations of the Words of Creation. This honor to the Gods was spoken to and handed down to many an elf, and no longer held that unique and magical tone that now can only be heard to the most discerning ears over the finest of instrument craft. The court of Fei'Reiwalle was known for their singing court, in itself was a pare of thrones that were built into a mighty organ of wind that billowed through pipes of twisting roots, opened by the skilled power to grow life and shape it with music and joy. It was this gift that the family Fei'Reiwalle gave before the flood, a hundred years prior a young man was born to the royal family and was reared the pride and joy of the musical court. This baby boy was a beautiful specimine, with an adrogyne face and long, golden locks that nearly hung to his waist, the boy was shown to be adept at the musical arts. From a young age, playing with stones and coins to hear their tinkling, to the instruments his people held with pride, Elandir Elvewyn Fei'Reiwalle was trained classically in the Flute, the Lute, and the Violin. The other elven kingdoms didn't find much in Elandir for arts, he was a horrible bladewielder and could barely hold a rapier with the proficiency to avoid stabbing himself. Credited was this prince with the first ulser in Ascan history, the king of that fiefdom sent the boy away with a marginal training in foil fencing, as to "Prevent the untimely death of the lad to holding the sharp end and stabbing at himself rather then the enemy." -The Vassal Blademaster. Art and craft were not beyond Elandir, but he was terribly aloof, and hated to dirty himself or his hands. "He began to paint, but when he realised he was painting himself, on himself, he became very despondent and moderately unpleasant. We decided to send him home." -The Vassal Artist. Inspite of his other failures, the prince was a beautiful lad who was groomed to be a fetching arranged marriage. Atypically, Elandir was receptive to the idea, "I would like to be wed to one of the princes, actually." He told his father. Musicianship brought an openness to their community which was not commonly found elsewhere, and it was known that the Ascan elves had, at one time, a king who openly supported this view. "Well Elandir," His father would begin, sitting him down in the throne room of the Musical Court, "While it would bring me joy that you would be happy, I need you to continue our family name. Is there any bride amongst the kings who you would choose? Surely, the Weaponmaster's daughter didn't beat you -so- many times?" The boy blanched at the idea "I will think of this father... I'm only fifty years old, there is time."
The Last Fifty Years: The Angel of Music
Elandir was no warrior, by any standard or stretch of the imagination. But he was a gifted player of instruments, with an uncanny ability to give the spirit of the Words of Creation through the intonation of instruments, invoking the pictures of his desires through each note to those who listened. It was a gift of the mighty Asca, where the forest gave them the gift of beautiful wood for instruments, which made a sound that no metal mined could ever match. It was during this time that the previous King had begun to focus on his composing, as he dreamed that his son would play the music of his own wedding, over a forboding sky the notes on paper were hummed and carefully scribed. It took the king a decade of work to complete the piece known as the Hall of the Musical Court, [1] , an amazing piece which was designed to invoke the power and presence of the Ascan pride and people. Finally immerging from his room, he walked into his court with the aid of an attendant, his body having atrophied slightly from the time spend with no excercise to speak of, "Elandir, Elandir!" He exclaimed eccentricly. The boy looked up from his Violin towards his father, now a young man of full bloom, the elf smiled to his father and dipped his head, "Yes, Ada?" The man handed him the paper, while he himself was moved to the throne, "Play this with me, and bring the very joy in my mind to the world. Please, Elandir, please!" The boy looked at the complicated piece of music, so advanced that the very notes moved and danced around the page, in an ancient art which is lost to the bottom of the sea. Rosened up his bow, and leveling his violin, Elandir heard the sound of the entire palace vibrating as the great organ, made from the roots of trees and the great throne, began to play. His violin carefully lept to life as his fingers played, and a great music filled the forest in a time the Ascans remember as the Year of Music. It was in this, that both Father and Son wept, when their music had drawn to a close, "My boy, my darling little boy..." Tears from both fell in silence, "If only your mother had stayed, she would have seen this too." He said sadly, shaking his head, "I was a fool, you are too precious to force this on, marry who you love, Elandir, and I will be a proud man. This court will live forever, if not in these halls, then in the sounds that will travel forever! You, are my Angel of Music." And so it was, the boy played for the courts, and was the love of many, but none who would hold the princes heart, neither man nor woman who approached him, held his interest, for still there was always a missing instrument in their symphonies, that rang to blaring volume in his elven ear. His father saw the restlessness in his boy's heart, and decided to give him a gift. For all the arts that he had failed to do, he had Elandir draw the most beautiful filigree he could muster. While his scratches and scrawlings were more beautiful then the average neophyte, they were not something of greatness. However, his father took them and showed them to the bowyers of the land, who nodded in response and slowly began to work. Then, Elandir's father told him to pick the color which he so loved, and elandir picked an old circlet made of gold, brass, and beautiful sky-blue gemstones. Seeing this, he went to his jewelers and had them produce the finest inset they could to lay on a bowstave, and the finest strings of the ductile silver they could muster. With that, he spent twenty five years with Elandir and taught him one more instrument, the six-string harp. Finally, with all of these years and works combined, Elandir's father said to him, "When you are a man, and the world is put on your shoulders, this gift will carry you that I give, you may not yet see it, but some day, you will." Servants had hidden a box of oak within one of the swan-ships, which were always on the ready to leave the ports of Asca Dagnir. With each passing year, Elandir had grown to be such a graceful creature, that the hand of fate decided to deal it's cruelty to him.
The Musical Court: Quietus
The days were overcast, the sound of hell in the air, thunder and lightning. Rain, that did not end for days. "Another cubit, my lord!" An elf called, bringing a stave from waters that lapped on a shore that has not flooded in at least three generations of elves. A sorrowful king looked on in sadness as others busied themselves. The sounds, the arrival of strange temples, and the sounds of it, the rain beating against the ancient trees for hours. All of it on these last few years. A young man laid on his bed, looking out the window and thinking a thought to himself. There was a creaking groan throughout the house as the rain beat across it's surface, as though intending to tear it down alone. An elderly elven man sat, a tambourine across his legs and thumbing the cymbals, "Lo, has not answered the Prayers of the priests. Instead they claim there is only a droning roar which replaces their connections. What is happening to our world?" The king slowly stood up and turned to a shape standing in the doorway. A cloak shifted around her frame as she walked forward, to which the elderly man looked on sadly, "It's you, Chi'anna." The woman slowly raised her hands and locked sad green eyes on him, "You never change, my king." She said, "You have to prepare, human lands have begun to flood already. Wiser ones have built arks." He looked shocked, "How could you insinuate what you're saying?! This is ou-- MY home! Let alone that it's not good enough for you!" He exclaimed indignantly, standing up, "Don't get terse with me, Limrolarian." She slowly approached him, "Put aside what's in your heart for a moment and look what's in your -head.- Take a moment to see what I am trying to do here, otherwise I wouldn't be here." The king slowly turned away and looked down, shaking his head sadly. "Fine. Yes. Lets... Let's gather the Swan Boats." Rain was pouring down hard, and the lightning lingered across the sky, swirling in darkness. The people fled to their boats, though disaster struck in the worst of ways. A single one of the boats was caught in a fierce lash backwards, pulling both it, and passangers into the throne room. The waters that raged upward began to fill the room. Unfortunately on the boat, a single lad was clinging to the neck of the swan. "Elandir!" A woman's voice cried out. Over the torpid waves, a single arrow sang through the air and crashed into the thrashing boat. A rope was drawn taught and the boy, the driver, and two other passengers began to climb the tether out of the waves. The forests of Asca became a deathtrap in the torpid waves, the boats began to seperate until there were only two left in this line, The ship the Father stood on, and the boy with the strange woman. The trees began to buckle and crash down around the ships, to which Limrolarian, Elandir's father, grasped the chuck and pushed the swan-ship against the other, causing it to veer out of the way-- however, leaving the rescuing ship crippled by the waters. Elandir was thrown from the impact and had begun to recover, "Father?! FATHER"! He called out over the edge, standing up. A lonely, proud elven King stood up, bleeding from his brow and looking to his son with a smile. "You're a good boy!" He called out over the crashing waves, raising a single fiddle he had taken from the Musical Court. Gently, he began to play a sad song, as the waters rushed up around him, "Live on, find love and happiness, and remember your home! You're an Ascan! You're an Elf! Never forget that, Elandir." the woman slowly stood up and looked on. His voice died down over the crashing surf, "Tell him, Chi'anna! I never had the heart to do it myself."
The music still filters through Asca Dagnir as the waters flood over the playing man, silencing him but not his music, and the last Swan ship, meeting with another two of survivors from other paths, took to the new oceans that spanned the world.
Over languid waters, the two spoke, "--That is the short of it, Elandir. I'm your mother. And, there is your Brother, Val'Seiger." He looked up at her sadly, "So I lost the only parent that I had growing up, to learn right now that you're my mother, and I have a brother that was -hidden- from me." She shook her head, "You're like your damn father, wearing your emotions on your sleeve is a good way to be shot with an arrow, Elandir. Suck it up. We left because these were not our ways..." She offered with disdain, standing up and looking at the ocean. Elandir looked away, "That's no suprise. Father was a peculiar type." He slowly stood up, walking to the other side. The ship and it's passengers had drifted for days, before landing on an empty tropical island. There, voices were heard that did nothing to those who rested there, and soon the other races were found. When the flood waters receeded, Elandir parted ways with his mother, and was told perhaps he'd see his brother. In those thirty years after the flood, Elandir wandered the land looking for things that brought him great interest. Now, he companions with a male human Ranger, named Valeros. He continues the tradition of playing music in his families name.
