Riend (prime): Difference between revisions
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{{characterprofile |
{{characterprofile |
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|name=Riend Ar'Fiernel |
|name=Riend Ar'Fiernel |
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|image=[[File: |
|image=[[File:Riend_Ar%27Fiernal_SF.png|300px|thumb|center|Portrait of Riend Ar'Fiernel<br>Artwork created by uploader using MidJourney]] |
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|race=Sylvankind |
|race=Sylvankind |
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|class=[[Rogue]] |
|class=[[Rogue]] |
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|profession= [[ |
|profession= [[Artisan]] |
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|religion=[[Church of Voln]] |
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|affiliations=[[Landing Defense Irregulars]], [[Elanthian Elegance]], [[Rone Academy]], [[Moonshine Manor]], |
|affiliations=[[Landing Defense Irregulars]], [[Elanthian Elegance]], [[Rone Academy]], [[Moonshine Manor]], |
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|disposition=Excruciatingly polite |
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|word=''Pardon me.'' |
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|demeanor=Sheepishly reserved |
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|disposition=excruciatingly polite |
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|demeanor=sheepishly reserved |
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|ptrait= |
|ptrait= |
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|strait= |
|strait= |
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|flaw= |
|flaw=Naivete |
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|strength= |
|strength=Persistence |
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|weakness= |
|weakness=Shyness |
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|habits= |
|habits= |
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|hobbies= Cobbling, Painting, Drawing, Baking. |
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|soft= |
|soft= |
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|dislikes= Non-consensual touch |
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|likes=Shoes, luxurious fabrics, tea, her home |
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|fears=Not being in control of herself |
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|dislikes= being touched, alcohol, public displays of affection, loud noises |
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|loyalties= |
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|fears=Not being in control of herself. |
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|friend= Seomanthe, Greganth, Karibeth, Kippe |
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|loyalties= Her family, her people. |
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|friend= Seomanthe, Greganth, Karibeth |
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|spouse= |
|spouse= |
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|loved=Jaired |
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|loved= Sir Bristenn Mires, Grishom Stone?) |
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|instance=Prime <!--- REQUIRED: This will auto-categorize in the proper instance category---> |
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|instance= Prime |
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|color=black|background-color=|border-color=}} |
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|town= Solhaven |
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|town2= Wehnimer's Landing |
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}} |
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==Riend Ar'Fiernel== |
==Riend Ar'Fiernel== |
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"I wanted to dissolve into the floor, mixing myself with the hard stone. A stone had a single purpose: to be. No complicated promises, no worries and no feelings." |
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==Features== |
==Features== |
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You see Riend Ar'Fiernel the Master Artisan.<br /> |
You see Riend Ar'Fiernel the Master Artisan.<br /> |
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She appears to be a Sylvankind.<br /> |
She appears to be a Sylvankind.<br /> |
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She is tall in stature and has a lithesome, nimble build. |
She is tall in stature and has a lithesome, nimble build. She appears to be in the bloom of youth. She has expressive, chestnut-haloed malachite green eyes and gardenia white skin. She has fine, textured hellebore black hair worn swept up in a blossom-like style of many petals pinned in the center with an eleven-pointed silver star barrette. She has an oval face, a gently sloped nose and gracefully pointed ears that complement her high cheekbones. Though her features are predominantly sylvan, subtleties in the shape of her face and the tilt of her eyes appear faintly erithian. |
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==Origin== |
==Origin== |
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Riend’s home lies deep within the |
Riend’s home, Llythwere, lies deep within the southeastern forests of Elanthia, nestled between the site of the once-great sylvan stronghold of Nevishrim and the winding cliffs of Barrett’s Gorge. Established in 2874, the settlement’s origins may reach even further back, according to the older families who whisper of an earlier encampment near Ne’Yuscarl Point. The truth, they say, depends entirely on which founding family’s tale you hear. |
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It was the wise and honorable sylvan mage, Illiweth Siergeth, who united the sylvankind of all the D'ahranal following the closing of Yuriquen. Seeking refuge from the turmoil that followed, they first made their way to the fringes of the Southron Wastes, gathering sylvans who had fled after the battle with Myrdanian. From there, they retraced the ancient paths that had once guided their people to the fabled Silver Veil.<br /> |
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===The First Year=== |
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With so many people in their caravan, it took nearly a decade to reach the dense, shadowed forests nestled at the tail of the Dragonspine. Along the way, harsh conditions, constant peril, and the encroachment of sickness steadily wore them down. What had once been a vibrant caravan, brimming with tens of thousands, now struggled to count more than three thousand. |
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In the early spring of 1343, the sylvan settlement of Llythwere was finally established, a symbol of their resilience. A people once bound to the nomadic life now began to spread their roots, carving out a place to call home. Ambitious plans were drawn to create a modest, but unmistakably sylvan structure high within the strong, ancient trees of the forest—an embodiment of their people's deep connection to nature. But before the first log could be raised, foraging patrols were sent out to gather the necessary materials. None of them ever returned. |
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Whispers of fear began to thread through the people of Llythwere, the sense of unease growing with each passing day. Talk of moving north, closer to the relative safety of Ta’Illistim, started to circulate. The prospect of dealing with the often intrusive elves seemed the lesser evil compared to dying alone in an unforgiving wilderness. The fledgling council, still in its infancy and having only just been formed weeks prior, convened in desperate deliberation. After a fortnight of tense discussions, they reached the decision to remain in Llythwere, resolved to face the unknown rather than retreat. |
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But as time passed, a silent, invisible war was waged against the small settlement. There was no visible enemy, no discernible motive, yet sylvans of all ages—men, women, children—began to vanish in the dead of night. Each morning, the waking world was met with growing dread, as families and friends discovered that their loved ones had been taken without a trace. No one was safe. No one knew who—or what—was responsible. |
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It wasn’t until the fourth month of their settlement in Llythwere that the identity of their enemy was revealed: a band of rogue faendryl bandits. The long, treacherous journey had already weakened them, leaving the survivors malnourished and frail. Their numbers were decimated in a series of brutal raids, leaving fewer than five hundred sylvans alive. With so many of the Ne’Yuscarl gone and Illiweth Siergeth’s health rapidly declining, they no longer had the strength to call upon the powerful Nanrithowan wards that had once protected their people. They were left with only a handful of weapons to defend themselves against the relentless invaders. |
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Raiding continued throughout the spring, and by the heat of mid-summer, fewer than a hundred sylvans remained in Llythwere. Their supplies were dangerously low, unable to last through the coming winter, and without the ability to grow crops or the courage to venture into the perilous forest to forage, they found themselves on the brink of collapse. In a desperate bid for salvation, the council turned to Imaera and convened a commune that lasted nine days and nights. |
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On the morning of the ninth day, Imaera appeared before them. Her presence was both gentle and unsettling, and she spoke of a great sacrifice that must be made for the sylvans to survive. "Give up that which you hold dearest," she told them, "and in doing so, you will be saved from the threat that looms over you. Llythwere shall prosper for generations to come." |
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Her riddles left the council perplexed, and for days they pondered their meaning. Yet, no decision was reached, and the enlightenment they sought came too late. Three days after the commune, Illiweth Siergeth passed quietly in her sleep. The last known mage of Yuriquen, her death marked the end of any hope for drawing on the ancient arts or protecting their people with magic. |
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Despite their dwindling means, the sylvans held a somber memorial for their leader, honoring her in the foothills of the Dragonspine. Her passing was seen as an omen, a grim fulfillment of Imaera’s prophecy. The council urged their people to wait patiently for the promised prosperity, but as the cold winter approached and the cries of hungry children echoed through the settlement, the sylvans grew uneasy.<br /> |
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===The Long Winter=== |
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By the beginning of the new year, the sylvans were desperate. Their food stores had dwindled to nothing, and they had resorted to stripping the bark from nearby trees in a desperate attempt to stave off starvation. Sickness and injury ravaged the survivors, threatening to extinguish the last remnants of their community. |
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The remaining members of the Ne’Yuscarl took to patrolling the forests in search of food and herbs. During one such trip, Gearith Tilweth was caught in a fierce blizzard, unable to find his way back home. The storm raged for days, and weak with hunger, Gearith became lost in the vast expanse of the forest, fearing for his life. |
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It is unclear how long he wandered through the storm, or how long he might have endured, had he not stumbled upon a small encampment. A group of people, unlike any Gearith had ever seen, greeted him with guarded kindness. Their stature was as towering as the giantkin he had glimpsed once in Barrett’s Gorge. Both males and females were completely bald on top of their heads, though their long, pale hair cascaded down to their waists. But what was most striking were their eyes—pale and slitted, like those of predators. |
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Too weak to be truly afraid, Gearith accepted their hospitality and fell asleep by their fire, too exhausted to resist. He awoke only once during the night, deliriously speaking of his people and their plight, before passing out again. The next morning, he did not wake. A quiet prayer was murmured over his body, and after a lengthy discussion, the strangers decided to return his body to Llythwere, curious about the sylvans he had spoken of. |
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When they arrived, the sylvans were wary. It had not been long since the faendryl attacks, and the thought of outsiders was unsettling. Their desire for peace and seclusion made them less than hospitable, especially after discovering their fallen kin among the strangers. |
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At first, communication was difficult and frustrating. The strangers, who called themselves the "erithi," spoke a language that was lyrical but utterly foreign to the sylvans. Though the erithi could understand fragments of the sylvan tongue, they preferred to respond in elven—an ancient language few sylvans still spoke, having distanced themselves from their elven cousins over millennia. |
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After some time, a strange but necessary compromise was reached. The two groups communicated through a mix of languages and crude drawings. The erithi offered the sylvans protection, supplies to see them through the winter, and assistance in rebuilding their homes. Though the offer seemed too good to be true, the sylvans had little choice. With no hope of surviving the winter on their own, they accepted. |
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Within a week, more erithi arrived in Llythwere, bearing food, medicine, and materials to help rebuild. Despite the lingering tension and the shadow of the bargain they had made, a tentative friendship began to form between the two peoples. |
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It was the wise and honorable sylvan mage Illiweth Siergeth who gathered the scattered survivors of the D'ahranal, left homeless and adrift after the closing of Yuriqen. Seeking refuge from the turmoil that followed, they journeyed first to the fringes of the Southron Wastes, gathering others who had fled or still longed to return to their lost homeland. Carrying word of what had befallen their kin, they sought to turn back any who might attempt the perilous journey home. Bound by kinship and strengthened by safety in numbers, they set out in search of a new refuge, following the ancient paths that had once led their people to the Silver Veil.<br /> |
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===At Great Cost=== |
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== Where the Lost Took Root == |
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By the time spring breathed new life into the forest, the sylvans had flourished. Their homes now stretched high into the tallest branches of the ancient trees, blending seamlessly with the verdant canopy. The once-fragile community had grown strong and well-fed, the harvests abundant and their spirits lifted. The conditions of their bargain with the erithi, once at the forefront of their minds, had faded into the background, overshadowed by the prosperity they now enjoyed. The two races coexisted in a harmony that seemed, for all intents and purposes, like a lasting peace. |
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The sylvans’ journey to the southeastern forests of Elanthia lasted nearly a decade. Harsh terrain, unrelenting weather, and sickness claimed many along the way, reducing a caravan of thousands to only a few hundred weary survivors. In the early spring of 2871, they reached the shadowed forests at the base of the Dragonspine and founded the settlement of Llythwere. Their first shelters were little more than makeshift huts of branches and hides, built from what they could scavenge. Supplies were always scarce, and each day was a struggle to find enough food, water, and firewood to survive. |
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Their hope did not last. Foraging patrols sent to gather supplies never returned. Fear gripped the settlement, and whispers of abandoning Llythwere spread. It soon became clear they were being hunted. A ruthless band of rogue Faendryl struck again and again, taking lives in the dead of night. By the end of the raids, barely one hundred sylvans remained. |
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But with the turn of the seasons came a quiet unease that settled over Llythwere like a heavy fog. As the anniversary of the erithians’ arrival drew near, the sylvans found themselves wondering: Would their new allies abandon them as the bargain’s true nature was revealed? Would the terms they had agreed to finally be made clear, and if so, what price would they have to pay? |
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Winter descended, bringing famine, sickness, and despair. Their warriors were nearly gone, and their last great mage lay dying. They could not farm, dared not hunt, and their meager stores were nearly gone. Each day brought the sound of hunger and grief. When the erithi appeared, strangers of an otherworldly kind, their offer of protection, food, and shelter seemed almost impossible to believe. Suspicion warred with desperation, but the choice was no choice at all. The sylvans accepted. |
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The erithi met with the sylvan council, and after a year spent learning one another’s language, communication between the two groups was far clearer. There was no room left for misunderstanding. In exchange for the aid they had given the sylvans, the erithi sought something of great personal importance: they needed to expand their population and experiment with their genetics. Over the centuries, their ability to produce healthy offspring had diminished, and their clan faced the threat of extinction. To that end, they required one sylvan female from each generation to conceive a child with an erithi male. |
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For a year the alliance flourished, and Llythwere began to recover. Then the erithi named their price. Every fifty years, a sylvan would be tithed, bound to them in a ritual of blood magic. The accord was not entered lightly, but the sylvans remembered too well the starvation and slaughter they had endured. Faced with the possibility of returning to that state, they agreed. The first ritual was witnessed only by the elders, its details kept secret, but its outcome ensured the pact would hold for generations. |
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The revelation was met with shock and horror. The sylvans recoiled at the demand, feeling betrayed by those they had come to view as benevolent benefactors. It was a horrific condition, one that seemed to defy the very principles of respect and equality. But the sylvans had no choice. Honor-bound by the agreement and with no other recourse, they reluctantly accepted the terms. The goodwill between the two races was deeply shaken, and the once-solid foundation of their alliance began to crack under the weight of the bargain. |
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As time passed, Saoirce Ar’Fiernel, a gifted mage and Riend’s mother, rose to prominence in Llythwere. She saw the tithing as barbaric and considered severing the erithi’s access to the settlement. Her skill with the wards that protected their home gave her the means to do so. Quiet dissent began to gather around her, and for a time it seemed the centuries-old accord might break. |
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The terms were written down and signed by both parties over the following days, each condition carefully outlined. The sylvan female chosen to fulfill the erithians' demand had to be between the ages of 300 and 350, considered to be her most fertile years according to erithian understanding. She would need to be in good health, to prevent the risk of transmitting any diseases to the male or child. Most crucially, she would need to be a virgin to ensure the paternity of the child, as the erithi had no interest in any uncertainties regarding the child’s lineage. |
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It was Saoirce’s grandmother who intervened, reminding her that the tithe had safeguarded their people when they were at their weakest. She urged her to see it not as a punishment but as a duty, a sacrifice made to ensure survival and honor the covenant with their allies. Saoirce had been raised to believe in that duty, having been a tithe herself, and the words stirred memories of the pride and purpose her own mother had instilled in her. In time, her defiance softened, and she set aside her rebellion, choosing instead to pass down that same belief in sacrifice and the needs of the many to her daughter. |
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The process would unfold in Llythwere itself. The chosen female and the erithi male would be housed together during conception and throughout the pregnancy. If conception did not occur over the course of a year, another sylvan female would be selected to replace her. And once a child was born, the erithi would take the child, returning it to their clan to be raised as they saw fit. The mother would never see her child again. This, of all the conditions, was the one the erithi had reluctantly agreed to amend: every tenth generation, one female child would be allowed to remain with her sylvan mother. However, when the child reached adulthood, she would be required to be tithed to the erithi. |
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Over the centuries, Llythwere thrived. As their numbers grew and their needs expanded, they began to build upward, weaving their homes into the great trees that had once sheltered their first camp. The city that emerged did not rival the splendor of Yuriqen, yet it was a quiet, graceful place, its walkways and dwellings shaped to live in harmony with the forest. Bathed in dappled light and the whisper of leaves, Llythwere became a testament to survival, resilience, and the enduring bond between its people and the land.<br /> |
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The sylvan council, torn with sorrow and horror, shared the terms with their people. Despite the heavy weight of this bargain, they saw no way around it. The council worked tirelessly to find a way to keep their bloodlines strong and pure, to lessen the burden placed upon their people. After much debate, they decided that each family would take turns offering one child every twelfth generation. How the child would be chosen was left to the discretion of each family. |
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== The Path Set Before Her == |
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Years passed, and tensions continued to rise between the two races. The erithi had expected offspring to result from the bargain, but nearly a decade passed without any success. Frustration mounted, and the erithi began accusing the sylvans of purposefully hindering conception, trying to circumvent the agreement. The sylvans, resolute in their intention to honor the bargain, sought to understand the cause of the problem. With little experience in such matters, the council was at a loss until one of their herbalists made a surprising revelation. He explained that he had once faced a similar issue when attempting to cross-breed the seeds of their silver veil trees with the local trees. The difference between the species was simply too great for them to produce viable offspring. |
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[[File:Ariend3colors.jpg|thumb|Riend as rendered by [[User:MAZEIKISJ |MAZEIKISJ]]|left]] |
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When Riend was born, her mother’s heart filled with both joy and sorrow. By tradition, she should have been protected from the tithe, for Saoirce herself had already been given and returned. Yet Riend was the first female born in Llythwere in three generations, and the shortage of daughters left the council with no other choice. She was chosen for the fate her mother had endured, and with that knowledge, Saoirce vowed her daughter would know freedom, however brief, and taste a life she herself had been denied. |
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Riend’s early years followed the path of any sylvan child in appearance alone. She learned to track with a light step, to string a bow with quiet precision, and to hear the language of wind through the leaves. Yet where others had laughter among the branches, Riend had silence. She was kept apart, her world narrowed to a quiet corner of the forest under the careful watch of appointed elders. Days passed with little more than measured lessons and long stretches of solitude. She did not grow up among the easy chatter of friends or the shared mischief of youth, and the rhythms of companionship were foreign to her. Words came rarely, and when they did, they were offered in hushed tones. She learned to speak softly, not from gentleness, but because there was no one to listen. |
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Relieved by this revelation, the sylvans approached the erithi with their findings. The erithi listened with approval and relief, and after a cryptic response about returning to their homes to find a solution, they promised to return. Without another word, the erithi left Llythwere, leaving the sylvans to ponder the future of their uneasy alliance.<br /> |
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Saoirce saw how solitude and the shadow of the tithe pressed on her daughter. Wanting to give her more than a life spent waiting, she entrusted Riend with a task. She was to travel westward, carrying word of Llythwere and its open gates to any sylvan who wished to come make their home among its people. Outwardly, it was a mission of welcome and kinship, but in truth it was a chance for Riend to walk beyond the familiar boughs of her home before the tithe claimed her. |
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===A Less than Welcome Return=== |
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Her journey took her west past the Dragonspine, moving from forest to forest, meeting scattered sylvans and guiding them home. In time, her steps carried her to the small town of Wehnimer’s Landing, where she would learn that not every freedom brought joy, and some paths, once taken, could never be walked again. |
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IIt took nearly a year for the erithi to return to the sylvan settlement with an answer to their problem. To the dismay and general horror of the people, they were informed that a ritual would be performed between the pledged male and the female. Their blood would be mixed, and they would be bonded together until a child was conceived. At birth, the bond would be severed, and the two would be allowed to part. |
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== The Weight of Another Soul == |
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At the time, very little was understood of blood magic, but it has since been revealed as the basis of the tithe ritual the sylvans go through. Due to a heavy mistrust of magic in general, any sphere beyond the most common is not actively practiced. In general, a deep-seated distrust of blood magic is common among sylvans of Llythwere, stemming from this accord. |
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In the early 5110s, Riend was drawn into a nightmare. Grishom Stone, a rogue blood mage, sought to create an urnon golem capable of bringing the demon Althedeus into the world. To power it, he hunted and murdered women who resembled his former lover, Madelyne, using them as both punishment and sacrifice for a betrayal that had driven him to madness. |
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One night in Wehnimer’s Landing, Riend heard a voice that chilled her to the bone. Weak, frightened, and pleading for help, it pulled her through the streets until it surged into her. It was Madelyne’s restless and vengeful spirit, and that moment marked the beginning of a torment Riend could never have imagined. |
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After a period of preparation, the ritual took place on the second full moon of the year. Outside of the couple, only the elders were allowed to attend, and therefore very little is known about the ritual. Rumors suggest that the couple share their blood and bind themselves together. Days later, the ritual was completed, and a child was conceived soon afterward. As promised, once born, the parents were no longer bonded, and the child was given over to the erithi to be raised. The sylvan was then allowed the freedom to choose her own path, no longer bound to the rules of the tithing. |
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The possession broke her slowly. It did not strike her down in an instant but wore her away piece by piece. Fevered nights blurred into waking hallucinations so vivid she could no longer tell memory from reality. Sores marked her skin and refused to heal. Her limbs grew too weak to carry her far, and her voice often failed her entirely. The pain was constant, but the spiritual torment was worse. Madelyne clawed through her thoughts, whispering the dying screams of Stone’s victims until they became her own. Every night brought another echo, another memory that was not hers, and always the same demand: that Riend destroy him. |
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For over thirty-seven hundred years, the tithing has been upheld by the sylvans, without fail. Throughout that time, they have thrived and built a true home for themselves. While they will never attain the golden age that was nurtured in Yuriquen, they have created a society that holds to the traditions of their people.<br /> |
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When Stone first approached her, he seemed unaware she knew what he was. He offered help, promising to free her from the spirit’s grip. His attention, and her striking resemblance to Madelyne, made her valuable to him. Others noticed. They saw how he looked at her, how she occupied a space no one else could. She was asked to remain near him, to watch and gather what she could. It was not given to her as a trap but as a quiet sacrifice. She agreed, not from trust, but from a belief that she could help bring an end to him. |
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===The Almost Uprising=== |
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Riend’s mother, Saoirce Ar’Fiernel, was a renowned mage among the people of Llythwere, one of the last students of Illiweth Siergeth. With her people protected and thriving, their numbers steadily increasing, she sought to improve upon the Nanrithowan they were strong enough to create. This included allowing the erithi to pass through the wards unharmed. Few knew she also held the power to stop it, and when it came time for her tithing, she pondered revoking it and casting the erithi out. |
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The danger lay not only in the pain, but in the doubt. Somewhere beneath the madness, she began to feel drawn to the man who had orchestrated her suffering. Stone could be charming, attentive, even gentle. There were moments when he smiled without cruelty, when he listened without judgment. In those rare times, she could not tell whether the warmth she felt belonged to her, Stone's own manipulations of her mind, or the fractured love Madelyne had once held for him, still clinging to her mind like a stain that could not be washed away. |
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Considering the practice barbaric, she sought to end it altogether and gained support from others equally unsettled by the tithing. Unrest steadily grew into firm opposition as she gathered followers in her efforts. Had she not been persuaded, it is generally thought that the tithe would have ended and the prosperity found with the erithian aid would have ceased, leaving the sylvans in a state only marginally better than when the erithi found them. |
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She tried to redeem him more than once. She wanted to believe there was something in him untouched by ruin, that he could be persuaded to turn away from what he had become. Even as Madelyne twisted her from within and Stone bent her from without, she held tightly to the belief that humanity could be reclaimed. It was not faith. It was desperation. |
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Set on her path, it was her own grandmother who stepped in and attempted to sway her from it. “The tithe is not a punishment. It is a burden we bear proudly because in tithing we are honoring our people, our ancestors, and the covenant we made to protect ourselves,” she explained. “There is no honor greater than putting the needs of others above your own.” Her grandmother’s words resonated, and with the sliver of doubt it created, she found her opposition waning, replaced by a keen sense of duty she would eventually instill in her daughter.<br /> |
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Eventually, he spoke of a ritual that would sever her bond with Madelyne’s spirit. He painted it as a mercy, a kindness, a clean end to years of torment. Riend agreed, desperate for relief. But the ritual was not what he promised. Instead of releasing her, it transferred Madelyne’s spirit into his urnon golem, binding her to his monstrous creation and leaving Riend broken in its aftermath. |
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===Present Day Lythwere=== |
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Time passed. The golem was destroyed, the demon’s influence faded, and Stone was captured, his power weakened. From his cell, he sent for her with an unusual request: a pair of shoes. She delivered them in person. In the stillness of the prison cell, they spoke with a quiet normalcy that was almost unsettling. There was no magic, no threats, only two people hollowed by what they had endured. She asked him to stop, to let it end. He claimed to care for her. She could not believe him, and she could not trust herself. |
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When Riend was born, her mother’s heart swelled with both joy and sorrow. As the first female born in her line in ten generations, Saoirce was granted the rare privilege of keeping and raising her daughter. Yet, with this gift came an inescapable truth: Riend would be bound to the same fate Saoirce had endured—the tithe. With a heavy heart, Saoirce resigned herself to the inevitable path her daughter would follow, but vowed to give her a life of freedom she herself had never known. |
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He escaped, as he always did. Soon, letters began to arrive. They came without warning, sealed with care and signed with the same words each time: “Yours, always, Grishom.” She never replied, but she read every one. In the quiet hours before dawn, she could not say whether part of her still hoped he might change, or feared that he never could. |
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Riend was raised as any sylvan child would be—taught to hunt with a bow, to hide among the trees, and to live in harmony with the forest. As she grew, her mother gave her a task: to journey westward, carrying knowledge to their people. It was both a gift and a burden. A chance to explore the world beyond the borders of Lythwere, to experience lands and cultures her people had never known. Riend embraced this rare opportunity, unaware that her travels would lead her into the very chains she sought to escape. |
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For a time, Riend believed Madelyne was truly gone. But the spirit was not destroyed. A fragment had splintered off and lodged within her, feeding on everything she tried to bury. It grew stronger with each unspoken fear and every moment she tried to forget. Madelyne waited, patient and watchful, ready to surface whenever Riend allowed herself to feel too deeply. |
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Her journey took her across Elanith, eventually leading her to the rugged town of Wehnimer’s Landing. There, surrounded by untamed wilderness, she fell in love with the land’s raw beauty and rustic charm. |
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In order to survive, to protect those she cared for and unable to know how dangerous Madelyne could still become, Riend learned to close herself off. She buried the joy alongside the pain, the longing alongside the fear. Every feeling became a weakness, a door that could be forced open. She locked them all, until nothing remained but a quiet shell of the woman she might have been. It was the only way she knew to keep the darkness inside her from breaking free. |
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With the world at her feet, Riend lived with a heart full of hope and wonder… unaware that her future had already been written, and the chains of her fate were fastened around her, unseen and unbroken. |
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== The Price of Survival == |
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==Affiliations== |
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[[File:Riend watercolor AI.png|thumb|Portrait of Riend Ar'Fiernel Artwork created by uploader using MidJourney]] |
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Master of the Rogue Guild <br /> |
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When Riend returned to Llythwere, she came not as the dutiful daughter destined for the tithe, but as something worn and withered by years of torment. She told her people what had happened beyond the forest, speaking of the possession, the slow breaking down of her body and mind, and the lingering presence of Madelyne’s spirit that had never truly left her. She asked for the sanctuary and healing her home had once freely offered. The council listened in silence, their faces a mask of judgment she could not read. |
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Master of Voln |
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Saoirce was gone by then, her voice absent from the chamber where her daughter’s fate was decided. No advocate rose to speak for her, no elder who had watched her grow up an awkward, isolated thing took pity on her. When the council delivered their verdict, it was without hesitation. She was unclean. Unfit. Unworthy of the tithe. What had been done to her, though no fault of her own, had tainted her in their eyes. Worse still, her ruin placed all of Llythwere at risk. Without her, there was no other daughter to tithe when the time came, and the breaking of the accord could mean the end of their fragile peace. |
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Member of Rone Academy |
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The verdict was final. She was cast out, told she could not remain among them. The paths she had once walked as a child were closed to her, the voices she had once longed to hear fell silent. There was no farewell, no parting gift, only the forest itself standing between her and the life she had tried to return to. She left as she had once entered the wider world, alone, carrying only what she could bear, the weight of her people’s rejection pressing heavier than the years of pain that had brought her there. |
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Officer of the Landing Defense Irregulars |
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Her purpose stripped away, Riend found herself without direction. The duty she had been raised to fulfill was gone, and with it, the anchor that had shaped her entire life. She could neither return to what she had been nor see the shape of what she might become. In the emptiness that remained, she stood suspended between past and future, unable to move forward. |
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Member of Moonshine Manor |
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== Vignettes == |
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Member of Elanthian Elegance<br /> |
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[[Riend (prime)/Vignette: Nothing Harmless|Nothing Harmless]] |
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[[Riend (prime)/Vignette: The World He Promised|The World He Promised]] |
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[[Riend (prime)/Vignettes: Different|Different]] |
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==Artisan Skills== |
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Master Cobbler <br /> |
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Master Fletcher <br /> |
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Master Painter <br /> |
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''New -'' [[Riend (prime)/The River Between us|The River Between us]] |
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==Links== |
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Latest revision as of 12:55, 22 November 2025
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Riend Ar'Fiernel
"I wanted to dissolve into the floor, mixing myself with the hard stone. A stone had a single purpose: to be. No complicated promises, no worries and no feelings."
Features
You see Riend Ar'Fiernel the Master Artisan.
She appears to be a Sylvankind.
She is tall in stature and has a lithesome, nimble build. She appears to be in the bloom of youth. She has expressive, chestnut-haloed malachite green eyes and gardenia white skin. She has fine, textured hellebore black hair worn swept up in a blossom-like style of many petals pinned in the center with an eleven-pointed silver star barrette. She has an oval face, a gently sloped nose and gracefully pointed ears that complement her high cheekbones. Though her features are predominantly sylvan, subtleties in the shape of her face and the tilt of her eyes appear faintly erithian.
Origin
Riend’s home, Llythwere, lies deep within the southeastern forests of Elanthia, nestled between the site of the once-great sylvan stronghold of Nevishrim and the winding cliffs of Barrett’s Gorge. Established in 2874, the settlement’s origins may reach even further back, according to the older families who whisper of an earlier encampment near Ne’Yuscarl Point. The truth, they say, depends entirely on which founding family’s tale you hear.
It was the wise and honorable sylvan mage Illiweth Siergeth who gathered the scattered survivors of the D'ahranal, left homeless and adrift after the closing of Yuriqen. Seeking refuge from the turmoil that followed, they journeyed first to the fringes of the Southron Wastes, gathering others who had fled or still longed to return to their lost homeland. Carrying word of what had befallen their kin, they sought to turn back any who might attempt the perilous journey home. Bound by kinship and strengthened by safety in numbers, they set out in search of a new refuge, following the ancient paths that had once led their people to the Silver Veil.
Where the Lost Took Root
The sylvans’ journey to the southeastern forests of Elanthia lasted nearly a decade. Harsh terrain, unrelenting weather, and sickness claimed many along the way, reducing a caravan of thousands to only a few hundred weary survivors. In the early spring of 2871, they reached the shadowed forests at the base of the Dragonspine and founded the settlement of Llythwere. Their first shelters were little more than makeshift huts of branches and hides, built from what they could scavenge. Supplies were always scarce, and each day was a struggle to find enough food, water, and firewood to survive.
Their hope did not last. Foraging patrols sent to gather supplies never returned. Fear gripped the settlement, and whispers of abandoning Llythwere spread. It soon became clear they were being hunted. A ruthless band of rogue Faendryl struck again and again, taking lives in the dead of night. By the end of the raids, barely one hundred sylvans remained.
Winter descended, bringing famine, sickness, and despair. Their warriors were nearly gone, and their last great mage lay dying. They could not farm, dared not hunt, and their meager stores were nearly gone. Each day brought the sound of hunger and grief. When the erithi appeared, strangers of an otherworldly kind, their offer of protection, food, and shelter seemed almost impossible to believe. Suspicion warred with desperation, but the choice was no choice at all. The sylvans accepted.
For a year the alliance flourished, and Llythwere began to recover. Then the erithi named their price. Every fifty years, a sylvan would be tithed, bound to them in a ritual of blood magic. The accord was not entered lightly, but the sylvans remembered too well the starvation and slaughter they had endured. Faced with the possibility of returning to that state, they agreed. The first ritual was witnessed only by the elders, its details kept secret, but its outcome ensured the pact would hold for generations.
As time passed, Saoirce Ar’Fiernel, a gifted mage and Riend’s mother, rose to prominence in Llythwere. She saw the tithing as barbaric and considered severing the erithi’s access to the settlement. Her skill with the wards that protected their home gave her the means to do so. Quiet dissent began to gather around her, and for a time it seemed the centuries-old accord might break.
It was Saoirce’s grandmother who intervened, reminding her that the tithe had safeguarded their people when they were at their weakest. She urged her to see it not as a punishment but as a duty, a sacrifice made to ensure survival and honor the covenant with their allies. Saoirce had been raised to believe in that duty, having been a tithe herself, and the words stirred memories of the pride and purpose her own mother had instilled in her. In time, her defiance softened, and she set aside her rebellion, choosing instead to pass down that same belief in sacrifice and the needs of the many to her daughter.
Over the centuries, Llythwere thrived. As their numbers grew and their needs expanded, they began to build upward, weaving their homes into the great trees that had once sheltered their first camp. The city that emerged did not rival the splendor of Yuriqen, yet it was a quiet, graceful place, its walkways and dwellings shaped to live in harmony with the forest. Bathed in dappled light and the whisper of leaves, Llythwere became a testament to survival, resilience, and the enduring bond between its people and the land.
The Path Set Before Her
When Riend was born, her mother’s heart filled with both joy and sorrow. By tradition, she should have been protected from the tithe, for Saoirce herself had already been given and returned. Yet Riend was the first female born in Llythwere in three generations, and the shortage of daughters left the council with no other choice. She was chosen for the fate her mother had endured, and with that knowledge, Saoirce vowed her daughter would know freedom, however brief, and taste a life she herself had been denied.
Riend’s early years followed the path of any sylvan child in appearance alone. She learned to track with a light step, to string a bow with quiet precision, and to hear the language of wind through the leaves. Yet where others had laughter among the branches, Riend had silence. She was kept apart, her world narrowed to a quiet corner of the forest under the careful watch of appointed elders. Days passed with little more than measured lessons and long stretches of solitude. She did not grow up among the easy chatter of friends or the shared mischief of youth, and the rhythms of companionship were foreign to her. Words came rarely, and when they did, they were offered in hushed tones. She learned to speak softly, not from gentleness, but because there was no one to listen.
Saoirce saw how solitude and the shadow of the tithe pressed on her daughter. Wanting to give her more than a life spent waiting, she entrusted Riend with a task. She was to travel westward, carrying word of Llythwere and its open gates to any sylvan who wished to come make their home among its people. Outwardly, it was a mission of welcome and kinship, but in truth it was a chance for Riend to walk beyond the familiar boughs of her home before the tithe claimed her.
Her journey took her west past the Dragonspine, moving from forest to forest, meeting scattered sylvans and guiding them home. In time, her steps carried her to the small town of Wehnimer’s Landing, where she would learn that not every freedom brought joy, and some paths, once taken, could never be walked again.
The Weight of Another Soul
In the early 5110s, Riend was drawn into a nightmare. Grishom Stone, a rogue blood mage, sought to create an urnon golem capable of bringing the demon Althedeus into the world. To power it, he hunted and murdered women who resembled his former lover, Madelyne, using them as both punishment and sacrifice for a betrayal that had driven him to madness.
One night in Wehnimer’s Landing, Riend heard a voice that chilled her to the bone. Weak, frightened, and pleading for help, it pulled her through the streets until it surged into her. It was Madelyne’s restless and vengeful spirit, and that moment marked the beginning of a torment Riend could never have imagined.
The possession broke her slowly. It did not strike her down in an instant but wore her away piece by piece. Fevered nights blurred into waking hallucinations so vivid she could no longer tell memory from reality. Sores marked her skin and refused to heal. Her limbs grew too weak to carry her far, and her voice often failed her entirely. The pain was constant, but the spiritual torment was worse. Madelyne clawed through her thoughts, whispering the dying screams of Stone’s victims until they became her own. Every night brought another echo, another memory that was not hers, and always the same demand: that Riend destroy him.
When Stone first approached her, he seemed unaware she knew what he was. He offered help, promising to free her from the spirit’s grip. His attention, and her striking resemblance to Madelyne, made her valuable to him. Others noticed. They saw how he looked at her, how she occupied a space no one else could. She was asked to remain near him, to watch and gather what she could. It was not given to her as a trap but as a quiet sacrifice. She agreed, not from trust, but from a belief that she could help bring an end to him.
The danger lay not only in the pain, but in the doubt. Somewhere beneath the madness, she began to feel drawn to the man who had orchestrated her suffering. Stone could be charming, attentive, even gentle. There were moments when he smiled without cruelty, when he listened without judgment. In those rare times, she could not tell whether the warmth she felt belonged to her, Stone's own manipulations of her mind, or the fractured love Madelyne had once held for him, still clinging to her mind like a stain that could not be washed away.
She tried to redeem him more than once. She wanted to believe there was something in him untouched by ruin, that he could be persuaded to turn away from what he had become. Even as Madelyne twisted her from within and Stone bent her from without, she held tightly to the belief that humanity could be reclaimed. It was not faith. It was desperation.
Eventually, he spoke of a ritual that would sever her bond with Madelyne’s spirit. He painted it as a mercy, a kindness, a clean end to years of torment. Riend agreed, desperate for relief. But the ritual was not what he promised. Instead of releasing her, it transferred Madelyne’s spirit into his urnon golem, binding her to his monstrous creation and leaving Riend broken in its aftermath.
Time passed. The golem was destroyed, the demon’s influence faded, and Stone was captured, his power weakened. From his cell, he sent for her with an unusual request: a pair of shoes. She delivered them in person. In the stillness of the prison cell, they spoke with a quiet normalcy that was almost unsettling. There was no magic, no threats, only two people hollowed by what they had endured. She asked him to stop, to let it end. He claimed to care for her. She could not believe him, and she could not trust herself.
He escaped, as he always did. Soon, letters began to arrive. They came without warning, sealed with care and signed with the same words each time: “Yours, always, Grishom.” She never replied, but she read every one. In the quiet hours before dawn, she could not say whether part of her still hoped he might change, or feared that he never could.
For a time, Riend believed Madelyne was truly gone. But the spirit was not destroyed. A fragment had splintered off and lodged within her, feeding on everything she tried to bury. It grew stronger with each unspoken fear and every moment she tried to forget. Madelyne waited, patient and watchful, ready to surface whenever Riend allowed herself to feel too deeply.
In order to survive, to protect those she cared for and unable to know how dangerous Madelyne could still become, Riend learned to close herself off. She buried the joy alongside the pain, the longing alongside the fear. Every feeling became a weakness, a door that could be forced open. She locked them all, until nothing remained but a quiet shell of the woman she might have been. It was the only way she knew to keep the darkness inside her from breaking free.
The Price of Survival
When Riend returned to Llythwere, she came not as the dutiful daughter destined for the tithe, but as something worn and withered by years of torment. She told her people what had happened beyond the forest, speaking of the possession, the slow breaking down of her body and mind, and the lingering presence of Madelyne’s spirit that had never truly left her. She asked for the sanctuary and healing her home had once freely offered. The council listened in silence, their faces a mask of judgment she could not read.
Saoirce was gone by then, her voice absent from the chamber where her daughter’s fate was decided. No advocate rose to speak for her, no elder who had watched her grow up an awkward, isolated thing took pity on her. When the council delivered their verdict, it was without hesitation. She was unclean. Unfit. Unworthy of the tithe. What had been done to her, though no fault of her own, had tainted her in their eyes. Worse still, her ruin placed all of Llythwere at risk. Without her, there was no other daughter to tithe when the time came, and the breaking of the accord could mean the end of their fragile peace.
The verdict was final. She was cast out, told she could not remain among them. The paths she had once walked as a child were closed to her, the voices she had once longed to hear fell silent. There was no farewell, no parting gift, only the forest itself standing between her and the life she had tried to return to. She left as she had once entered the wider world, alone, carrying only what she could bear, the weight of her people’s rejection pressing heavier than the years of pain that had brought her there.
Her purpose stripped away, Riend found herself without direction. The duty she had been raised to fulfill was gone, and with it, the anchor that had shaped her entire life. She could neither return to what she had been nor see the shape of what she might become. In the emptiness that remained, she stood suspended between past and future, unable to move forward.
Vignettes
New - The River Between us