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storyofmychoices · 9 months

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The Quest for Daenarya

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 1 + Beyond] [Mal’s Orphanage]

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 2 AU]

Pairings: Mal Volari x Daenarya (F!MC)

Other Characters: Tyril Starfury, Nia Ellarious, Thalassa (OC orphan), Lysander (OC orphan), Ovisa (OC orphan)

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow II, Chapter 3

Word Count: ~2,600

Rating/Warnings: Teen to be safe; blades (daggers, swords), angst with a happy ending

A/N: I had wanted to publish this before chapter 3, but life got in the way. I still hope you enjoy my version of Mal x Daenarya's reunion.

Synopsis: After hearing her stories, Thalassa, Ovisa, and Lysander decide it is their quest to bring Daenarya back to Mal, they just never imagined it would be so easy.

This follows Shadows of Hope (Mal's grief) and Her Legacy (where the children were introduced).

Her heart pounded like a drum in her chest. Her steps, once confident and purposeful, now felt hesitant and uncertain. It had been a year since she last saw him, not for her—or at least it had not felt like it to her— but for him. The anticipation of their reunion weighed heavily on her. Her eyes filled with tears as she thought of him and the orphanage he had opened, a dream they had once shared. She was proud of him, more than words could express, but a profound sadness tugged at her. They were going to build it together. They had whispered plans late at night of the life they'd build and the lives they'd save. She knew how much the orphanage meant to him, how much it meant to both of them and not being there had been a constant ache in her heart since she had first learned of it. He did it, though, and she admired him so much for that.

A lump swelled in her throat. Her thoughts shifted, swirling with doubts and fears. What if their connection had faded during their time apart? What if he had moved on, found another Contessa (or two) to fill the void she had left behind? She couldn't blame him. That was the life he led—but that was before her. The idea of losing him, even though they were worlds apart, was a pain she couldn't bear to imagine. She swallowed hard, putting the idea out of her thoughts. Even if he had, it wouldn't take away from the man he became in her absence, the man she always knew he could be.

As she neared the orphanage, her steps grew slower, her anxiety intensifying. She took a deep breath and steadied herself, determined to face whatever lay ahead. She needed to see him, to tell him everything, and to hopefully share in their dream once more.

"Shall we wait here?"

The elf's voice startled her, drawing her back. His presence along with Nia's reminded her that this was more than a happy reunion. There was still a job to do, even if for just a moment, she had let herself forget. Forget the stakes. Forget the journey that awaited them. Forget that two of her friends were beside her. For her, it was just them. Just her and Mal.

She nodded subtly as she climbed the 3 stone steps to the orphanage door. She paused for a moment; her fingers ran over the sign reading "Mal's Orphanage", and below it, the words "no longer forgotten". Her heart swelled with pride and admiration.

Her closed fist hovered over the door as she worked up the strength to knock. She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself as she rocked her fist forward, only to find the door opening before she could make contact with it.

Three little faces greeted her. They instinctively took a step back, the oldest standing protectively in front of the younger two.

"Oh, hello," Daenarya offered softly, a smile of delight filling her face. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm just looking for my friend. Maybe you know him?"

The children studied her closely, whispering to one another.

"That's her!" Thalassa insisted, her eyes sparkling with intrigue. "We found her!"

"Are you sure?" Ovisa questioned. "I wouldn't think our first quest would be this easy?"

"She looks just like her!" Thalassa continued. "You've seen that drawing Mr. Mal has in his room. That's her."

Lysander considered the girls' words a moment, thinking back to the drawing and looking at the woman standing before them. "I think you're right."

"What do we do now?" Thalassa questioned. The three children ignored Daenarya as they stood huddled in the doorway.

"We should just make sure," Ovisa advised. "We don't want to get this wrong."

"Agreed!" Lysander turned back to the stranger at the door. "What's your name?"

"Daenarya."

Thalassa squealed and bounced in place, vibrating with excitement. "I knew it! I knew it!"

"We really did it!" Ovisa cheered along.

Lysander stood proudly. He couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement. He tried to hope for Mr. Mal and the girls, but he didn't think any of them would ever be able to save her, but here she was. "Can you wait here?"

He shut the door, closing Daenarya outside before she had time to reply.

Ovisa opened the door again, poking her head out. "We'll be right back." She closed it once more.

Daenarya couldn't stop the giggle of amusement rising in her chest. Any doubts or worries melted away at the sight of those precious children. He did good.

A scream of anticipation pierced the air as the children bounded through the house. No door or wall in all the realms could contain their flurry of excitement as they ran through the halls and rooms, screaming for Mal.

Mal ran to them at the sounds, questioning what could be wrong, fearing the worst, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his dagger, ready to fight anyone who might threaten them.

"We found her! We really found her," Thalassa screamed, pulling on Mal's arm, attempting to drag him forward.

"It's her! We did it," Ovisa added, pushing the drawing of Daenarya she had taken from his room in his face. "We checked and everything."

"I didn't believe it, but the girls are right. We found Daenarya," Lysander agreed. "Can you believe it?"

Mal's head spun at the fast pace of their words but also from what they claimed. He knew how much they wanted to help, how much finding her meant to them since first telling them her story, but it couldn't be. He just didn't know how to let them down. They loved their make-believe games, but this one hurt more than any other could. "Did you now?" He finally offered, trying to play along.

"We did! We really did!" Thalassa continued pulling on him. Her small frame did little to move the strong rogue.

"I'm so proud of you." His smile was weak, not reaching his eyes that glistened at the sound of her name on their innocent lips. "I will need to hear all about your worthy quest."

The children exchanged looks. There really wasn't much to tell about their quest. They hadn't really considered that before.

"Well, we were going to go out and look around town," Ovisa started. She conveniently left out the part where she had planned to pickpocket some nobles. "We wanted to do research and ask around, but really all we had to do was open the door."

"So you found a magical door? A portal to the Shadow Realm?" Mal played into her story. "We'll have to alert the palace at once."

"No, I don't think so," Ovisa shook her head in confusion. She turned her attention to Lysander. "Is the front door magic?" Her eyes widened at the possibility.

"I don't think so," he pondered it a moment.

"The front door?" Mal questioned. "Of what?"

"Of here!" Thalassa dug her heels in, pulling harder. "That's what we're trying to tell you."

"This isn't a game?" His heart pounded in his chest.

"What game?" Lysander didn't know what he was talking about. "We really found her. She's outside."

Mal's feet carried him down the halls to the front of the building. His thoughts were torn between hope that they were telling the impossible truth and the pain of it being their attempt to cheer him up. Each step felt like a lifetime. The excited cheers and chatter of the children pulling and pushing him forward was a distant sound. All he could hear was the sound of his heart drumming in his ears, ready to break when she wasn't there. He couldn't let them see him like that.

"Maybe I should go alone," he decided when they finally reached the door.

"Awww," Thalassa let out a soft whimper. "But we wanted to see!"

Lysander pulled the girls back a step. "We're here if you need us."

Mal offered a half-hearted smile as he patted them on the back. "I'm so proud of all of you. I hope you know that."

"We do," Ovisa hugged him. "Now go!"

Mal nodded, reaching for the door. He schooled his face, hoping not to let his disappointment show to them. The door crept open slowly. Instead of the dark streets of White Tower waiting for him, he saw what he could only believe was a mirage of her.

He closed his eyes, shaking away her memory. He couldn't do this. Not now. He could break down later. But not while the children were there. He counted his breaths and shook the tears away, knowing that when he opened his eyes, the vision of her would be gone.

But she wasn't.

Her glistening eyes met his own as she stood locked with his gaze. "Mal."

She rushed forward, throwing her arms around his neck. She buried her face in him.

It took him a moment longer to return the gesture. He half expected her to melt away if he touched her, but she didn't. His arms enveloped her as he pulled her closer.

As Mal held Daenarya in his arms, the world around him seemed to blur and fade away. The sensation of her presence, her warmth, her breath against his neck, was almost too much to bear. His knees grew weak, and for a moment, he feared he might collapse under the weight of his emotions. Everything he had felt during their time apart, the grief, the longing, the guilt, all of it surged to the surface in this one overwhelming moment of reunion. He clung to her as if she were his lifeline as if letting go would mean losing her all over again. She was his rock, his hope, and his strength. If it was not for her, he wouldn't be standing now.

"Is it really you?" His words were a broken cry in her ear.

"It's me." She clung to him, refusing to let go. "It's me."

"How?"

Her hands cradled his face as she met his gaze once more. She needed to see him. "It doesn't matter right now." Her thumb brushed over the coarse hair of his beard. "I'm here now. That's all that matters. I'm here."

Unable to contain his overwhelming emotions any longer, Mal gently pulled Daenarya closer, his lips seeking hers in a tender, passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with longing and love. A kiss that spoke of all the time they had spent apart and all the moments they had yearned for this reunion. All the pain and sorrow of the past year melted away, leaving only the pure, unbridled joy of their love. The world around them could have crumbled, and they wouldn't have noticed. For at this moment, it was only the two of them.

The laughter, cheers, and eventual "eww, gross" sounds from the children were distant. Tyril and Nia brushing past the reunited couple, ushering the children inside, was a blur.

Nothing in all the realms mattered more than the love passing between them. This was what he had spent a lifetime searching for. A priceless treasure, worth more than gold and diamonds, someone who made him feel whole. The only place his heart longed to be— home. In her arms, that was home.

They parted, only to catch their breath, their foreheads resting together.

"I failed you," Mal grieved. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"You could never fail me," Daenarya marveled. "Look at what you've done, what you've created. This life you've made for the children—I couldn't be prouder. You are the best man I've ever known, Mal Volari."

"I am pretty great, aren't I?" He teased, trying to get out of himself. His light-hearted tone faulted. "I tried everything."

"Shh—" She pressed her finger to his lips. "That part is over. I'm here now. That's all that matters."

He pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her softly. His eyes closed, breathing in her familiar scent for the first time in a year. She hadn't changed a bit.

"Are they still kissing?" Ovisa called.

Thalassa stuck her head out a window before Tyril could pull her back in. "I think so. Hey! You're no fun."

As Tyril removed Thalassa from prying into the couple's moment, Ovisa relieved him of the sword on his waist. "Wow, this looks really sharp." She held the blade up, studying how the light reflected off its shiny surface.

"How did you get that?" Tyril's words stumbled as he stood in disbelief that anyone, let alone a small child, could have taken his prized weapon. "Get back here with that."

"Nuh-uh." Ovisa jumped up on the couch, holding his blade out to him. "Who do you think you are? Her—" she pointed the blade back toward the door. "—and her—" she pointed it at Nia."—we like. You, we don't know!"

"Ovisa," Nia approached calmly, holding her hands up. "Remember we talked about this; we don't take things that don't belong to us. You don't need to do that anymore."

"But what if I like taking things?" She pouted. "Look at how shiny it is!"

Tyril snickered. "Leave it to Mal to open an orphanage for thieves."

"How did you expect them to survive before this?" Nia questioned. "We're teaching them a better way."

Lysander stood next to Ovisa. "You still didn't answer the lady's question. Who are you?"

Tyril took an astonished step back. "Tyril of House Starfury."

The children broke out into laughter.

"No, you're not silly," Thalassa pulled on his arm. Her eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Can I touch your pointy ears? They look so big. I could just scream!"

"I am Tyril Starfury; surely, Mal has told you stories," he replied incredulously. A scowl pulled on his lips. "He may have used the name 'Elf Boy'."

"He has told us stories of Elf Boy, the great elf of House Starfury, but you're not him." Lysander took the sword from Ovisa, holding its tip to the elf's chest. "Are you one of them, from the Shadow Realm?"

"Maybe he's part of our quest," Ovisa decided. "We have to vanquish the imposter."

"Why would you children think I'm an imposter?"

"You're too tall?"

"I'm what?"

"TOO. TALL." Ovisa over-enunciated the words, making sure he understood.

Tyril stood dumbfounded. "Look at the blade; that crest is the crest of my house."

"You could have stolen it!" Ovisa pressed her hands to her hips. "I stole it from you, so does that make me from House Starfury too?"

"This is ridiculous," Tyril stammered, searching Nia for assistance. The priestess hid her face behind her hands to cover her laughter. "You are enjoying this. This is what I get for defending the realm with you a lot. What did he tell them."

Daenarya couldn't help but stifle her own laughter as she listened to Tyril try to reason with the children, their voices carrying through the still-open window. "What did you tell them?"

A devilish smirk pulled on his lips. "I started with the truth, Kit. That ought to count for something."

Her brow rose curiously, "And what did you end with?"

Mal ran his hand over the back of his neck. "Elf boy's height might have decreased with each story."

"How tall is he now?"

"Shorter than me."

Daenarya shook her head, "he will not be pleased."

"And that's different from any other moment, how?"

"You're trouble."

"Your kind of trouble?"

"Always," she replied, her lips drifting back to him. They would save Tyril from the children...eventually.

In my original HC for the orphanage I had the part about Mal telling stories about Tyril and his height getting shorter each time, but Tyril (and Maiele ~@lilyoffandoms ) became such an important part of Mal and Daenarya's life that it never worked out in my orphanage to do that, so I was happy to sneak that in here. Though I know if Maiele were here, he'd sit back and enjoy the show. He would be helping the children find flaws in Tyril's defenses just to see how long Tyril would argue with the kids.

I hope you enjoyed my reunion for Mal and Daenarya. My poor Mal with his 5 stages of grief could not be so chill as chapter 3 Mal. I get what PB was going for, but I've sent years developing these characters and that's not my Mal, but I get those that did enjoy it.

Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate any and all support!

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petalouda85 · 4 months

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Masterlist

I thought it was time to make a proper masterlist. I’ve never made one before so I hope it’s all good. Lots of projects coming in the future!!!

Fics

Blades of Light and Shadow

Braids - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: the Tyril reunion of Blades 2, as I imagined it pre-chapter 2.

Promise - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: victory over the Ash Empress quickly turns to tragedy. Tw: character death, use of alcohol to cope with grief, implied s**cidal thoughts

Forever (in my Mind) - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: the follow-up to Promise. TW: character death

Battle - Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Concept: A rewrite of the final battle in Blades 2

Baby Starfury Fics

Crafts

Tyril Starfury Amigurumi

Nia Ellarious Amigurumi

Threep Amigurumi

Miscellaneous

Some incredible fanart by the amazing and wonderful @lilyoffandoms

Meet my Blades MCs (coming soon)

*if you want to be tagged for my fics/crafts/both, feel free to let me know 🥰

#masterlist #tyril x mc #tyril starfury

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choicespride · 8 months

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Bisexual Awareness Week 2023 Masterlist

Blades of Light and Shadow

Ask Answered - f!human!MC (Daenarya of Riverbend) - @storyofmychoices

Ask Answered - Mal Volari x Tyril Starfury - @storyofmychoices & @lilyoffandoms

Love is love is love! - Mal Volari x f!human!MC (Daenarya of Riverbend) x Nia Ellarious - submitted by @storyofmychoices; art by coffeesforchloe (IG)

Picrew Mal & Daenarya - Mal Volari, f!human!MC (Daenarya of Riverbend) - @storyofmychoices

Sculpting Desires - Mal Volari x f!human!MC (Daenarya of Riverbend), Tyril Starfury x m!elf!MC (Maiele), Mal Volari x Tyril Starfury - @storyofmychoices

Crimes of Passion

bisexual awareness week '23 q's & a's - f!MC (Nora Rose) - @inlocusmads

Cover Redesign - m!Trystan Thorne x nb!MC (Gabriel Rose) - submitted by @lilyoffandoms; art by artbyainna (IG)

High School Story

Questionnaire - f!MC (Evie) - @cadybear420

Open Heart

A Quick Study - f!MC (Casey MacTavish) x f!OC (Jessica Phillips) - @jerzwriter

Ask Answered - Bryce Lahela - @storyofmychoices

Dr. Casey MacTavish Carrick - @jerzwriter

Sydney Serving Absolute Cunt - m!MC (Sydney Valentine) - submitted by @peonyblossom; art by @somewillwin

Perfect Match

Saffron Sugar, Turmeric Spice - f!Hayden Young x poly m!MC (Basil Park), f!Hayden Young x f!OC (Nilkushi Sierra), implied Sloane Washington x MC - @lizzybeth1986

#bisexual awareness week 2023 #choices pride bi week 2023 #masterlist #high school story #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #open heart #perfect match #cadybear420 #storyofmychoices #lilyoffandoms #artbyainna #peonyblossom #somewillwin #jerzwriter #lizzybeth1986

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missameliep · 2 years

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Like Poetry – Blades of Light and Shadow – Tyril Starfury x f!human!MC

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Pairing: Tyril Starfury x Nayeli (f!human!MC)

Characters: Tyril Starfury; Nayeli (MC); Nia Ellarious (the Priestess); Kade (the Bard); Imtura Tal Kaelen (the Princess) and Mal Volari (the Rogue).

Rate: Mature (Read notes)

Word count: 7k

Summary: More than three decades have elapsed since Tyril Starfury left Undermount and joined a party in their quest to save the world from the Shadow Court. Reminiscing about the time spent amongst humans, he ponders about life, friendship, love and time itself.

Notes:

• Story freely based on a prompt from @the-modern-typewriter, in bold is the part of the prompted used, which also inspired the title, and you can find the original post here;

• All characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them;

• TW: character death (not graphic but still 2 characters die), violence, and mature subjects that might be triggering to some readers;

• The name Nayeli is of Zapotec origin and means “I love you”, and I think it’s quite appropriate to the MC in this story;

• Events take place three decades after the end of book 1 and I'm experimenting with different things narrative-wise in this story, so feedback is appreciated ☺️;

• English is not my first language.

Time flows at its own pace.

Steadily.

Unstoppable.

Just like a river.

Always moving.

The apparent stillness of the surface sometimes tricks the eye, but time never stops; not even in those moments when it seems to stand still, like the first time Nayeli kissed him or when she confessed her love for him or whenever she cries his name when their bodies and souls unite in the most intimate expression of their love, it does not stop and one should not be fooled by it.

Impossible to block its path with a dam or slow it down. Impossible to press it forward either. The winds cannot change its course. Not even all the known magic in all the kingdoms can change that despite every attempt in doing so. Time never stops.

And that is the beauty of it. A beauty lost on Humans, the Elves used to say.

Humans seem to always be at war against time.

A war fated to be lost.

Not because of death, everyone dies, and everything shall perish eventually. Even the elves in their timeless grace shall meet their end. But humans, it seems, choose to focus on the losses and despair long before the end. Grasping for what’s impossible to hold, watching it slip through their fingers like sand, their eyes miss the true beauty of this world. The beauty in permanency. The beauty in order. The beauty that remains even when one is gone.

Prior to leaving Undermount, Tyril Starfury agreed with the scholars of his land: this behavior is nonsensical, why rebel against what cannot be stopped?

Time flows and Immortality is nothing but an impossible dream.

Nevertheless, more often than not these days, he wishes seconds would slow down and stretch indefinitely.

After three decades living amongst the humans, one could not ignore that the elf has learned too much about their ways – even if it is worth mentioning most of the knowledge about humankind was acquired against Tyril’s own will – and his mind and views about the world have changed. Evidently, they have not changed to the point to become foolish enough to go on a quest against time. Or death.

Though, to be fairly honest, he’d give his life for Nayeli a thousand times and a hundred more.

If time follows the natural course and fate does not trick them, the fire inside her will extinguish long before his own. Despite this knowledge and that he has lived many years in a world without her presence, sometimes he wonders how one can live on when your heart returns to dust?

Impermanence started to be more noticeable to his eyes. Human lives flow at a different pace from the ones sheltered within the sanctuary of Undermount.

Like the momentary bloom of springtime flowers are the humans. They bloom and soon wither; whilst the elves remain mostly unchanged – on the surface at least.

The texture of Tyril’s celestial-blue skin has not been marked by deep lines and wrinkles, remaining as smooth as ever, nor his raven black hair has been peppered by white. For the past fifty years little changed in his appearance, and very little will change in the next seventy or hundred years. Unlike the humans around him.

Everywhere, youth and beauty fade.

However, the changes within, the scars and thorns well concealed in one’s core, might be the most significant of them all.

Tyril has been learning about them, and his heart began to nurture sympathy for their urge to not succumb to decadence and oblivion. A fate only very few can escape, nonetheless. Some by their great deeds reach immortality by becoming legends and subjects of verses and timeless praise, others by the equally greatness of their evil and greedy hearts, becoming tales that scare the younglings.

His eyes have contemplated a few of those humans who reached this level of greatness. The good and the bad kind.

II.

From Riverbend, an obscure village in the south of the kingdom of Morella, came the hero the tales announced for so long. In fact, a heroine.

Unlike the expectations of the elves, the heroine was an unremarkable human with no magical powers, untrained in the arts of war and no visible greatness. Who amongst them could expect that a mere human could undo the corruption forged by elves’ powers and foolishness over a millennium?

Nayeli, the orphan who grew up with no last name and once counted on compassion to survive, built her greatness over the ruins of her losses. Many misjudged her unimpressive appearance and her ordinary origins; Tyril takes no pride in admitting the condescension in his initial judgment.

These erroneous beliefs did not stop her from becoming the greatest adventurer and the fiercest warrior to walk around Morella and beyond. Many raised toasts to her and still do. The bravest woman to walk amongst them, who never left a companion behind – disregarding the fragility of her own body, Nayeli would come even for an elf wielder of magic like him –, who united the group in her quest to rescue the only family she’s known that far and led them to defeat the Shadow Court, all the while giving her companions reasons to fight and hope.

Hope.

Once upon a time, Nayeli’s hope was enough to save not only the Bard and the Priestess but the entire world. And it did.

Unstoppable. A force of nature, one could say. The greatest heroine of the Realm. Every bard from Morella and beyond sang about her and her companion’s deeds. The woman who inspired epic poems across the lands still rouses him to write verses late at night, some on paper, some on her warm brown skin.

Nayeli’s greatness had come at a price. A price too high at times. A price he would be willing to pay instead of her. Or perhaps share the gift of his birth; but that he could not do. His years were his and his alone; not a minute of his existence could be granted or added to her life nor to the lives of the ones she loved.

III.

Right after they met, Tyril found nothing special about Nayeli.

To him, she was yet another annoying human, who smelled of smoke from the campfire, stale ale, and aromatic herbs she carried in her duffel bag. Her dark brown eyes could be either inviting, like contemplating the beauty and mysteries of the night sky or piercing like the sharp blade of a dagger, cutting right through you; either way, those eyes often followed him, be it curiosity or something else he was not entirely sure at the time.

Flirty, brazen, and bawdy. Her teasing vexed him, and, after a few swigs at the bottle of ale, the jokes that came out of her mouth were as lewd as the ones told by the crew of orc pirates to the amusement of the party and Tyril’s perplexit, considering the extraordinary pain he kept at bay, which he could see in her eyes.

Equal parts kind and resilient.

People praised her beauty.

But he did not see it.

Not at first.

Perhaps, to perceive how beautiful she was, one had to continuously look at her. Close. Closer. Like he did. Taking in the glow on her deep brown skin and the tenacity and witty that caused the dark brown eyes to sparkle. Drinking in the sight of her marching, face radiant with sunlight and droplets of sweat, black hair, long, thick and coarse, pulled into rough locks that resembled braids but were nothing like the ones that adorned the elves’ heads. These locks framed her face, swaying during the long marches in their journey, and falling down her shoulder when she rested beneath a tree to rest.

Tyril had observed her from afar and learned about her, noticing even the smallest things like how her nose wrinkles when she smiles, the way she embellished the locks with little tokens, such as a seashell from the island she visited with the Rogue, and how she would cry herself to sleep many nights, but mornings would invigorate her and there would be no hint of despondency while she welcomed the new day, except for the slight swelling of her eyelids that not once he mentioned.

Mostly, he believes now, one had to contemplate the strength she drew from a heart that seemed too big to fit inside her chest, experience her kindness that prompted her to share even the smallest loafs of bread with others, the loyalty and devotion even to a brother she would do better mourning like humans do – but Nayeli would never do that, never giving up on hope.

Perhaps, one had to know her.

Therefore, during the first days of their journey, Tyril watched and learned, quietly and undisturbed.

Not for long, however, and mostly definitely not as inconspicuous as he assumed.

The Rogue was the first to notice the lingering looks – or at least the first to speak and tease him about it. Nonetheless, Tyril ignored his crude remarks, like he had chosen to ignore the feelings blossoming too. How could he ever develop such feelings for a human of all creatures?

However, his heart betrayed his resolution and that plan failed. A thing he never regretted.

To this day, it bewilders him that Nayeli’s gaze would linger on him as well. And from all the people she met in the lands of his ancestors and faraway, her heart claimed his.

He had no other choice than to offer his heart to her, and he was hers as much as she became his.

IV.

For countless years, each new day started just the same and there was nothing else the elf’s heart desired more than reliving that ritual again and again and again.

As soon as the birds chirped at the tops of the ancient trees towering the small cottage by the river, before the first rays of sun could dissipate the fog and make shine like tiny diamonds the dew covering the grass and peppering the windows, the elf’s blue eyes would flutter open and find the fiercest human he’s ever known sound asleep beside him.

A blessing from the Gods Tyril never thought himself worth of.

Despite his beliefs, Nayeli chose him. Over and over. Even when he refused to be chosen, even when he politely asked her to leave him be… she wanted him and nobody else by her side.

Many eyes desired her, and she could have had anyone: human, orc, elf or any other being who has walked upon these and foreign lands, be it Knight, Royal, magical wielder or commoner.

A prince once offered his soul and his entire kingdom, yet her heart wished none of that. Her witty and sense of justice were praised by some; while others lusted upon the curves his fingers and lips have mapped. Even the Rogue would have abandoned all the Contessas in the blink of an eye for her; beneath the nonchalant appearance, Tyril suspects a piece of his heart remained in her hands even after all these years and all the lovers he welcomed in his arms.

Many years ago, when there was fire in Nayeli’s eyes and her strength and hope could have carried them both, they were sent off to another war and volunteered themselves on a quest against the Dark Prince and his followers, hunting down every remaining ally of the Shadow Court. For the next decade after they met, peace was not an option. They had no home but each other’s arms.

At first, the party rejoined to face a greater evil. Even greater than the Shadow Court.

The Heroine, the Elf, the Priestess, the Rogue, the Orc Princess, and the Nespers were together again. Even the Bard went along, determined to register all their great deeds. Little they knew there’s little greatness when it comes to war.

The battle cry called from beyond the frontiers of Morella, and they followed, braving through the densest forests and the most inhospit deserts.

The battle cry is persistent, and Nayeli could not ignore it. And Tyril could never ignore her. Neither could the others.

Battle after battle, they fought for the world’s salvation, for honor and justice, and mostly they fought for their own lives and to preserve their spirits and shield their hearts from the evils surrounding. They faced new enemies and new perils. Despite the fleeting victories, the bitter taste of many losses lingered.

In the end, they prevailed and moved on to another fight. Then another one. A new danger constantly looming over the horizon, almost no time to rejoice.

It should not have surprised any of them that there would come a time when the party would eventually part ways. It wouldn’t be the first time, but it would hurt anyways to part from those who became one’s family.

War took too much of their lives and energy. Unlike the quest against the Shadow Court, who brought them together and forged the unbreakable bond of complicity and love, gradually the long campaign and successive battles lost meaning.

“What are we even fighting for?” A question whispered by different lips in the darkness of many nights.

Season after season went by. Despite the immense love shared, not one remained the same. Nayeli was too stubborn to realize it at first – or perhaps too hopeful – that instead of fighting for honor, goodness and love, they were fighting for duty and a piece of cloth hanging above a Palace that had no meaning whatsoever... The promised adventures came and went by too quickly, and the determination of the group faltered with the realization that fight was not theirs. Their hope and faith in Nayeli remained, but the moment they dreaded could not be prevented anymore.

When the days got longer and it was safer to travel, it was settled the Priestess and the Bard should return to Whitetower, the city they embraced as home. Despite the Priestess disposition, strength of character, and increasing dexterity at the fields, they were not warriors nor adventurers, and as painful as it was, it made sense to let them go. They witnessed it all, and their pens and voices would keep them alive, even if the remaining party succumbed to their final rest at those foreign fields – which they never did.

The grand library of Whitetower sheltered the Priestess and the Bard from the outside world, but not from the horrors whose roots spread within their minds. Their eyes saw too much darkness for their kind hearts to remain the same. A burden they learned to carry together. A friendship that lasted to the end of their days.

Then, one day the sea called out to the Orc Princess. An irresistible song.

“You won’t turn me into no landrat,” she guffawed when she clasped one massive hand on Nayeli’s back, and the other stumbled but laughed back, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Like I’d even try…”

The moist in their eyes indicating it was equally hard to take one’s leave and to let one go. But Nayeli knew her destiny had been put aside far too long, no pirate captain should be kept this long away from their ship and crew. She left with a promise.

“The Wraith and my axe –”

“I know.”

Not much was said with words, but they knew. And so did Tyril.

Last, the cries from the dispossessed from Morella called the Rogue, and it was his turn to depart. The urgent need to wash away the blood from his hands and move from the horrors that eclipsed part of the brightness of his smiles was too strong and understandable.

Then there were only the two of them. Tyril and Nayeli. They fought side by side, wielding their swords against the wicked and they loved one another with absolute devotion. They shared the kind of love and trust few shall experience, a confidence that the person beside you would take the blow if it meant saving your life, even if you would never comply with such sacrifice.

“A life worth living must be more than sacrifice,” he dared admit one night while they contemplated the night sky, snuggled together in the bedrolls. As an elf from one of the Great houses, Tyril was used to the burden of duty and honor, but since meeting Nayeli, his hear wished more than this. His admission was met with cautious tenderness and a bitter sigh.

“I know not how to be any different… not anymore.”

“Then we learn together.”

VI.

The years slowed her down, and the injury on her leg never healed. A pain her tongue never complained about but was like a thorn deeply pierced into her flesh.

The pain couldn’t be hidden from him. The grimaces and hisses when the cold days came upon them, and the skies downed covering the world with pure whiteness were all that he could see sometimes... Her pained expression creased his brow and filled him with worry – he never stopped worrying about her.

“This?” she asked with a smirk when he insisted on seeing her leg. “Pfft! This is nothing! You should’ve seen the other guy!”

But he’s seen the other guy. He’s seen until the last one of them. It only takes a second for the memories to come to mind. That day at the battlefield, enemies surrounding them, the flicker of light on the blade captured his attention. His eyes followed the blade’s course until it connected with her leg. He ran and he cried her name and the names of all the Gods to allow his blade and magic to save her, to live the whole life they planned for after – an after that seemed unlikely to happen. However, the Gods granted his wish. His flaming blade cut throughout the throng of enemies. Tears streamed down his face at the sight of her crushed leg. But she survived. They survived.

“I did and that is why I wish to see you well.”

With a smirk she would dismiss his worries, and with tender firmness would hold his hand, to prevent him from using his magic on her again.

“I have plenty to spare,” he would say every time, though after using so much of his magic on the battlefields one could never be quite certain of the truthness in those words.

“Do not throw away your time…”

“Caring for you shall never be a waste.”

Pulling his hair back to take a good look at his face, she whispered a tender “thank you”, kissed his temple, and offered to braid his hair after she finished her own. Her smile and warm presence would be enough to soothe his worries. At least for a while, and he would relax while she braided his hair, humming a song from that one time they danced at the tavern.

VII.

When the time to leave the battlefield behind came, they needed a place to call home.

Their first choice was Whitetower. However, the lavishing banquets despite many starving, frivolous excesses, injustices of all sorts, and futility of courtly life were the opposite of their hopes. Nayeli refused being assigned as the new general or pledge her loyalty where her heart did not lie… and Tyil knew in which side her loyalty lied.

The Rogue joined them again, or better yet, they joined him and his efforts to change the lives of those nobody looked after.

A fight worth of their strength, and they were grateful to do so.

Nayeli’s name and fame inspired many, and those many stirred the winds of change, bringing them to the precious streets of the capital city of the kingdom.

The new sovereign hated her – he hated all of them! – and wished her dead. But who would dare kill the heroine of the Realm? Who would dare transform her into a Martyr or a Saint?

A fool king loses his crown and possibly his head; a wise king learns and listens and embraces the changes. The king was not a fool, but he was not wise either.

Like a snake, he used his wits and her loved ones to drive her away. But her absence was not enough to stop the changes from coming.

At dusk, the sticks and stones came, arrows rained down the city, and the king were no more.

That seemed to be the last great evil they would fight and prevail against.

VIII.

From Whitetower they crossed the lands and reached Undermount to set residence, a mistake he is yet to forgive himself for.

For a long time, the elves have lost sight of what truly matters. After the feasts to celebrate their victories came the hatred. The sight of a human amongst them and what their union meant fueled hate and despise towards those who were not their own kind. Despite their efforts and all the changes, Undermount would remain sealed to the outer world.

“Outrage”, some said, “An elf who turns his back to his own kind!”

Others would speculate about the Half-breeds she would bear inside her womb, whispering malicious words more hurtful than any dagger that pierced through her skin.

“Kilvali and Dinvali,” Tyril claimed, but the Council ignored; and soon he got tired of crying his heart out to those who wouldn’t listen nor understand what love and honor truly meant.

Nayeli got tired too. So very tired. Not that she couldn’t take the dirty looks and dirtier words about the intruder who was amongst them. Oh! She could! And she could take most of the gossipers in a fight too, which she did, punching a couple of elves who dared insult her to her face. But fighting day after day and never feeling at home was not the life she wanted.

Her heart longed for more. Her heart longed for home. And there was only one place besides Tyril’s arms that she could ever call by that name.

Returning to Riverbend became her greatest wish. Tyril had followed her to war, and he would follow her anywhere.

At the morning of their departure, Tyril’s father placed his hands on his shoulder, his wise and tired eyes settled on Nayeli before returning to his son’s face.

“Are you certain of that choice?” was the question uttered in elfish in an attempt to not insult the woman a few steps beside his son.

“Absolutely,” was his answer.

“It is not meant to least,” his father sighed. “She shall wither and perish before your eyes.”

“If I am fortunate enough, I will hold her hand until it happens.”

Valir pursed his lips but gave his blessing and bid his son farewell. At least this time he had that chance. Without saying the words, both knew Tyril would not return to his homeland for the next several years.

IX.

The ancient woods that once witnessed the greatness of the Elven Empire at the outskirts of Riverbend became their home.

Across the river, surrounded by the forest, they built a cottage and a new life together. How lovely it was! After almost a decade of battles and adventures, they could rest, they could just be. This was everything he never knew he needed, and she was his everything, his home, his lover, his heart.

The friends who became their family would join them from time to time, or they would cross the lands to visit them, and those years were the happiest they could be.

Years went by like this; and Nayeli’s smile brightened the entire world.

The knowledge Nayeli acquired for so many years helped the villagers and travelers seeking for a cure.

The heroine became the healer, a title that suited her well.

She helped women in their hours of need and brought younglings back from the doors of the kingdom of Death and Oblivion, and this invigorated her. Her strength came from them, from all the people she shared her gift with.

However, despite the happiness, shadows loomed over them. Some were real, others were not.

For a long time, Nayeli claimed to not have a past before being rescued by the farmers at Riverbend. Tyril, however, suspects her mind buried it deep inside, in a chest only her dreams had a key to unlock. The secrets shied away by the light of day were often set free at night.

Many times ever since she took upon sleeping next to him after they shared a narrow fetid bunk at the sea, he studied her features at the dead of night.

Sometimes her dreams seem beautiful and a small smile pulls at the corners of her lips while she mumbles or softly calls her mother. Most of the time, however, what comes out of that chest must be dreadful, if the screams trapped in her throat contorting her face in horror and the unknown language in which she murmurs a string of words like a prayer is any indication of that.

Despite saying she slept better beside him, it took years for Nayeli to truly rest, even after Morella needed no more saviors – at least not the kind that were sent off to wars outside their borders – and a different kind of peace reigned. The Darkness was gone. But the Light seemed to be gone as well; or perhaps it just rested until necessary. One could never know for sure. There were still magic and wonders to be seen, fairies and mermaids and drakes, and no king sitting at the throne at Whitetower and no crown over the head that ruled Morella. The war was over, but not in her dreams. A dagger gifted from the Rogue always tucked under the mattress at the reach of her fingers. Sleep as light as a feather.

Many years after they settled in the woods, the Priestess and the Bard came to them. The leaves were turning sunset colored and raining from the tops of many trees, and the breeze carried the scent of the harvested crops beyond the river, the last of the season.

One afternoon, Nayeli and her brother went to the village, like they always did; fondly, Tyril observed them. Their laughter was the same, only punctuaded by the coughs that left the scrawny man breathless sometimes, and the pace was not like it used to be. The years have not only wrinkled their skin but slowed them down...

Most days, while the others occupied themselves, the Priestess remained inside, curled in an armchair near the fire, like the Nesper sleeping on her lap. Sometimes she’d write on a leather tome, others she’d sip the tea with wistful eyes.

Tyril was the first and perhaps the only one to notice the way the Light was slowly leaving her. A knowing look into his eyes in one of those afternoons confirmed that she knew it too.

Nia, the brave kind Nia.

She knew the risks but chose to use magic and it abbreviated her years. Were she an elf and things would have turned out differently… Not all of Nayeli’s knowledge on medicine and woodlore nor his magic could be of any help.

“Do not tell her,” she pleaded with trembling hands. “I will tell her. Soon. I promise.”

Tyril nodded. It was not his secret to share. Though, looking back, perhaps there was a tint of selfishness in his action, because if he could, he would keep Nay as much as he could in the dark.

Several weeks after they arrived, Nia closed her eyes to never open again in one ice-cold morning surrounded by her dearest friends. With her died the Light in the world, at least from Nayeli’s world.

But it wasn’t the last blow on the fire inside of her.

Two years later, death claimed the Bard.

Kade closed his eyes in the exactly same day Nia had left them. At last, the persistent cough that none of the known herbs could cure stole the air from his lungs, but also from Nayeli's own lungs. Tyril’s still not certain whether Nayeli has really breathed ever since the morning his body returned to dust.

XI.

They settled.

They lived.

They lost.

They loved.

They suffered.

They healed.

In each other arms, whenever he held her tight, it almost felt like all the pieces that were broken could be mended.

With the years, he’s learned what love humans sing and compose poetry about truly meant. She loved him despite of whatever was missing or broken inside of him, or perhaps because of that. Nayeli had been broken too in a way it was not easy to understand. It remained hidden underneath it all, in a place no one was allowed, not even herself. Sometimes, when she fell asleep, some of the pain would spill and her body would shiver and through gritted teeth she’d speak a language he did not recognize and call for names she would never remember in the morning.

The strongest person he ever knew. Her laughter would echo and everybody – actually he would forget the world, lost in her brightness and her beauty. A part of her fire has faded over the years, but Tyril still sees Nayeli, beyond her grieving, the most brilliant star in his sky. Even if her laughs were scarce these past days. Even if her eyes averted his more frequently and she remained unusually quiet.

Tyril appreciate their routine and waking beside her every morning, even during the grimmest days.

This morning, however, when the birds chirped and his eyes fluttered open, he did not find her face. His hand instinctively reached for her side of the bed, and her warmth was long gone.

The elf gets to his feet, taking the blanket with him. The warmness of the fireplace might have lured her in this freezing night.

Quietly, he walks around their home but does not find her by the fireplace nor by the wooden oven at the kitchen.

At last, his eyes contemplate her silhouette surrounded by mist outside. An eerie sight. A bad omen, one could say.

Nayeli does not turn around to face him when the door opens, nor when he steps on the gravel path.

“Nay, my dearest,” he calls her, “is something wrong?”

Without looking at him, she shakes her head, making the untamed coarse hair sway slightly around her face. In the front, there is a gray path where once was exclusively raven black hair, covering her right eye. The shawl over the thin long chemise is not enough to warm her body, like the quivering lips give away.

In silence, Tyril stands next to her, and wraps the blanket around her shoulders.

Even then, she does not look at him. Her eyes are fixed and glossy, lost in her thoughts, staring at the direction where Nia and Kade rest.

“Have you had a nightmare?” he asked softly.

Taking a deep breath, she finally looks at him as if waking up from a dream then averts her gaze.

“The time has come,” she starts, and her voice comes out hoarser than usual, “you must go back to Undermount, Tyril.”

His name on her tongue was like music to his ears since the first time she whispered it between kisses, but now the tone pierces through his heart like a dagger. Her eyes are tired, a sort of tired not caused by one sleepless night.

There is something weighting on her, he has not ignored and has a few theories about the way the humans deal with their mortality.

“Why?”

“We knew this day would come,” she said while starting back to the house.

Instantly, he sprinted after her, not waiting for them to be inside to utter his question. “Because you are older?”

“I am old.” She halted by the door and looked at him over her shoulder. “You are an elf.”

“I have never been anything else in my entire life. Though I would be willing to try for you…”

The humorous reply doesn’t make her smile like it would any other day.

“You have, but –” she cut herself, pulling the blanket around herself even tighter, like she’s trying to brace herself. For a moment the only sounds inside the room are from her steps and the crackling of the fire. “This must end. The elves were right. It was selfish of me to keep you here, away from your own kind. Return to your family. It is time.”

He studies her face, and dares hold her hands in his, calloused and roughened by war and work.

“I am home.”

She pulled her hands away and distanced herself, tumbling on the armchair closest to the fireplace.

“Your father never wanted you to leave,” she said firmly ignoring his words. “He shall be pleased with your return. And so will your sister.”

“He wished me nothing but happiness. And there is no happiness for me away from you.”

“Nonsense.” She grimaces. “There is nothing left for you here. Go.” She waves her hands in a motion one would use with an animal. It hurts. But he fixes his stare on her face. Lines and wrinkles frame her brown eyes and lips. Every smile etched on her skin. None of which were there when they first met. But he has happily mapped each of them over the years. Every line tells a story: a smile, a victory, an ecstasy, a pain, a loss. Too many losses lately. But they both know all the happiness she’s experienced tips the scale in her favor… even if she doesn’t remember it now.

“I have not belonged to Undermount for far too long…” he insisted when her face remained emotionless. “My place is here. With you. Have I not promised to stay?”

Her teeth bury into her lower lip, and she does not face him, finding the fisted hands on her lap more interesting than the words he is saying.

“I release you now from those silly vows I forced you to take. You are free.”

He has been nothing but free all these years. In fact, she freed him from fear and a world he didn’t fit. Before he could say anything, she continued, her voice was so extraordinarily quiet that standing a few feet away, he barely listened to what she is saying.

“You don’t have to wait and see it all wither. Not that there’s much left to see anyway. I wrote Mal. There is a place for me. I’m going to him… There’s nothing left for me here. All the people I – I love… now that Kade…” A hand covered her mouth and the words died inside.

“Is that the reason?” he asked, but there was no answer.

Kneeling in front of her, his hands come to rest gently over her knees. “Do you no longer love me?”

Her hand hastily brushed the tears running down her cheeks, and she opened her eyes to look up at him.

“It’s the opposite. Perhaps if I loved you less…”

Hearing her words caused his heart to skip a beat within its cage, and he took a deep breath. His hands encircled hers, and he brought them to his lips. They are still cold. Nayeli looks too small and tired gazing back at him.

“I am aging, Tyril.”

“I know.”

“Nothing can stop that. You can heal my wounds, but…”

“You will get older. I know.”

One of his hands cups her cheek, and the other caress her hair gently to not disturb the balance of the tiny curls. On the right side, the gray strands are more abundant than the black ones.

“I am not the same,” she murmurs. His thumb wipes the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I will die –”

“You. Me. Everything in this world,” he cut her off, raising to his feet and pulling her up into his embrace.

“You will not for many years... You have barely aged a day.”

Her thumb traces his jaw, and the soft blue skin. Every angle of his face remains the same, sharp like the tip of the blade he used to carry around. Her voice is filled with tenderness when she opens her mouth, “You look as handsome as the first time I saw you...”

“And so are you, Nay.”

“Lying doesn’t suit you, love.”

“Do you believe me that shallow? The life we have together is written on your skin, like poetry. How could I ever find that repulsive?”

She sighed and buried her face in his chest. He caressed her hair and back fondly until her shoulders stopped shaking, then he stepped back. His hands cupped her face, and he pleaded with his eyes that she looked at him, which she eventually did.

“Do you not think I considered your humanity, the brevity of your youth and the days you and I would have together before I offered my heart? You are everything and more. You healed me. You taught me what love is.”

A choked protest died in the tip of his fingers pressed against her lips. Leaning forward, he kissed her cheeks. She closed her eyes, revelling in the warmth and gentleness when he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “My heart is and will always be yours.” He kissed her lips softly, and whispered, “If you still love me, there is no other place for me in this world.”

“Give the Starfury house the heirs they deserve,” she pressed.

“Alina has provided enough heirs to keep our name and lineage.”

“You still could have the children we dreamed, and I could not give you.” She looked between them, and he pursed his lips.

“Nobody can give themselves what the Gods have denied them.”

“If anyone, the Gods denied me!”

“Do you believe if I leave, I will forget you?”

“You must. You have plenty of years ahead of you.” She pulled back from his embrace and pushed hard against his chest. “Go!”

Tyril remained still, standing in the same place, and she pushed him harder.

“Go,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Now!”

“You send me off to mourn you and our love while you’re still alive?”

“I wish you to live!” she pushed once more, and his hands grabbed hers and trapped them against his chest.

“I’d rather stay. Do not deny me that privilege, my dearest. If fate allows me, I want to be the one holding your hand when you exhale your last breath, and to send you off to the land of your ancestors.”

“You’ll regret it!” She shook her head, disappointment clouding her eyes. “The time wasted… it’s nonsensical!”

“As you say, I have plenty of time. Therefore, it is my choice how to spend it.”

“Why are you so stubborn?” she hissed, but her gaze no longer had the same fierceness, the fight washing away from her alongside the tears.

“I’ve learned from you, dearest of my heart.”

A small involuntary huff escapes her lips, and he pulls her back into his arms.

“I love you.” In his embrace, she relaxes, and the muscles of her back softens, while he repeats the three words over and over.

Finally, her eyes met his, glistening with unshed tears.

Elfs cannot predict the future, but Tyril is almost certain it will not be the last they’ll have this conversation. Nayeli is too stubborn and apparently loves him too deeply after three decades to wish him an ill-fate. Maybe one day his words will sink in. Maybe one day she’ll believe his promises and his unwavering heart.

“Accept my love and that I’m not leaving you,” he whispered between kisses at the top of her head. “And now, I shall take you back to bed, so we can start this day properly.”

Time is unstoppable, always flowing at its own pace. No one can stop or change its course. Even the foolest creatures of this land knows it.

Nevertheless, sometimes, it almost seems that it stops for a while at will. At least, that’s what Tyril feels when Nayeli, facing him in bed, let her eyes flutter open after he asked her to pretend to go back to sleep and it was almost like watching the sun rising in the horizon, its light brightening the world around her even when she believes to be fading away.

But time does not stop. Everyone knows that.

When her fire goes out in a day he hopes will come many years from now, he wonders if his will flicker and perhaps extinguish too…

How shall he go on living in a world where Nayeli is gone?

Tears threatened to prick at Tyril’s eyes but he blinked them back. For now, he lives in a world where she is, and he’ll bask in the precious moments they do have instead of fighting the inevitabity.

#blades of light and shadow #tyril starfury #tyril starfury x mc #nia ellarious #kade of riverbend #imtura tal kaelen #mal volari #choices fanfic #tw: death #tw: violence #canon compliant

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musicallisto · 3 years

Text

˚ ༘✶ — 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚��𝐤𝐬 (nia ellarious & f!reader)

@emmacata requested: Nia Ellarious + “wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything, and everybody believed in you?”

summary: “My name was Nia Ellarious, the youngest Priestess of the Light in the history of Morella, disciple of Scholar Vash at Whitetower. I defeated Duke Erthax, Duchess Xenia, the Dreadlord and its Shadow Court with my companions, and brought peace upon the Realm of Light. Not once did I falter, though often I feared. Everything I wrote in my diary was truthful.”

author notes: I made this one a little longer & formatted it as a regular one-shot in honor of Blades Appreciation Week. I’m always late to these kinds of events but I really wanted to do something special for this one, and Emma’s request was the perfect excuse - also I love Nia so much. this is kind of a... paranormal!AU? ghost!AU? Tom-Riddle-diary!AU? idk I just think these types of plots are so cool. used she/her pronouns for the reader, and it’s almost totally platonic

word count: 2.5k

warnings: kind of bittersweet...?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐒 lived many lives before the one that brought it before her — it’s worn and its leather cracked and torn at the spine, pages yellowed by time and trial. Heavy in her hand, but more peculiar than any other item she has seen on the Whitetower flea market, it seems as though it refuses to open in the vulgar light of day.

“How much for the book?”

“That piece of junk?” the busy owner of the stand scoffs. “It’s been here forever. No one wants to buy a book they can’t open. Five copper at best.”

Such a small price for an age-old mystery — a bargain. Unhesitatingly, she hands him the coins, and although the sun is still high in the sky, she heads home, the journal emitting a curious heat in the crook of her palm. Nothing today will catch her interest quite like the book; she has seen enough.

And still, she hasn’t seen anything yet.

𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆: forcing it open with brute strength, palpating all the cover for a hidden mechanism, caressing its weathered spine as though she was taming a beast, even resorted to solutions she dares not admit without her cheeks reddening; asking it please and telling it sweet words, proclaiming made-up incantations and swearing on everything that’s ever been holy that she is worthy.

Stubborn, it doesn’t bulge; and like a moth to the flame, she keeps coming back to this airtight world.

“By the Light!” she lets out a frustrated cry after her twenty-sixth attempt bears as little fruit as the others. “Fine, stupid book, keep your secrets!”

And just like that, the journal exhales ever-so-slightly, like it’s been holding a breath for millennia and only now can rest. The shift in the candlelight by the book is unmistakable; the air is charged with an electric and formidable apprehension that all departs from and converges back to the book. Magic?

The Light?

No. The Light is but a children’s tale from times past, a centuries-old superstition that belongs to the same imaginary pantheon as the Shadow Court and other bedtime stories she’d hear long ago.

Carefully, she sits on her chair and opens the book with the softest of pressures.

Pages and pages spread before her, ink fresh as new and still bearing its original scent, of myrtle and forest winds, all in a language she has never seen before. It’s runes and runes as far as the eye can see, and as she turns the pages, she loses herself to the hundreds, no, thousands of symbols, practically impossible to differentiate to her lay eye, that tell her all their secrets in a forgotten script. She remains high-spirited still; she’s gone farther than anyone has ever gone before with the secret journal.

“By the Light?” she asks tentatively, hoping the runes will bow to her will if she invokes their master. “Uh... by the Light, please, turn into a language I can read?”

The pages remain unstirred. Of course — the Light does not exist, and never has. Buried forms of magic do not stem back to life from ancient artifacts. She’ll have to roll up her sleeves and translate it all the old-fashioned way.

She grabs a pencil, adjusts the light, and proceeds with her reading.

As she turns the pages, some of the pieces to figure out the puzzle of the book appear a little clearer to her. Sometimes, leafing through a few scribbled notes, she stumbles upon a careful sketch, a map of what she recognizes as Morella, drawn with the utmost care and precision. She identifies the capital and its proud dungeons, the circled dot around what she supposes means Whitetower, and a dotted path emerging from the Deadwood; she finds the drawing of a winged cat on the following page, a haughty frown on its feline face and excited little notes all around it; but there are few schemes to help her, and soon the writing comes to an abrupt stop, with dozens of pages left to fill. She gathers all the clues she’s collected with excitement, and starts jotting down her notes; the vaguely bird-shaped letter must stand for E with how often it appears, and the wave must be a vowel, and...

Absorbed in her transcription, flicking back and forth through the pages, she almost doesn’t notice the sentence that just appeared in the corner of a page, most definitely not in her handwriting.

“Who were you?”

It’s perfectly legible, the handwriting neat and diligent, clearly from a hand that’s long exercised in calligraphy; and unmistakably the same hand that drew the runes, and the map, and the cat, and wrote a life’s worth of inexpressible adventures a thousand years ago.

She pauses, eyes wide, breath shut, pen hovering above the page as if her every movement were spied on from another time. She blinks, hard, twice, then brings the candle closer to the inscription, almost close enough to set the paper on fire. It’s undeniable; the diary has spoken to her like an intruder, its voice that of a tidy and polite poet, and it must think her awfully rude, to conquer its pages without giving a name.

So she writes hers down, right underneath the new words.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious. Did you write all of this?” she quickly adds with a trembling hand, not nearly as neat as her mysterious interlocutor, and as ridiculous as it may sound, she truly expects an answer from this derelict diary.

It’s not long in coming, black letters slowly fading into view on the crinkled page.

“I did. I lived all of this. It was all true.”

“Who were you?” she asks the burning question as soon as the answer appears completely, unskeptical of the strange turn of phrase she used.

She waits. She fears the other might have been offended by the direct question, or that she may have been talking to herself, merely a hallucination, all this time.

But the answer does come, long and wistful.

“My name was Nia Ellarious, the youngest Priestess of the Light in the history of Morella, disciple of Scholar Vash at Whitetower. I defeated Duke Erthax, Duchess Xenia, and the Dreadlord and its Shadow Court with my companions, and brought peace upon the Realm of Light. Not once did I falter, though often I feared. Everything I wrote in this diary was truthful.”

But a question still tickles the back of her mind, and it isn’t entirely her incomprehension at all those foreign and forgotten names. Carefully, she insists.

“Who are you?” and she underlines the are twice.

The answer is the longest to come in all their otherworldly conversation.

“Pardon, but I did not understand what you meant.”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘 is spent reading all she can on the Light, on the Shadow Court and its bloodthirst, and on the dark ages in the history of Morella that it shields from prying eyes. She borrows all she can from the Whitetower library, and her pressing questions cause more than one raised eyebrow among the librarians. Insanely enough, no one she interrogates, none of the scholars nor the students nor the elite writers and historians and professors she hails in the capital have ever heard of this Dreadlord and even less of a Nia and a ragtag group of adventurers. She dares not mention the Light to them, lest they think her madder than she may be already; but she returns to the flea market and tracks down the merchant she bought the diary from; gone without a trace.

Defeated, she slumps on her chair in front of the diary, exactly as she had left it the night before. She eyes it for a few instants, its incomprehensible tales calling to her like an indescribable glow...

No one in the whole of Whitetower remembers anything of the Shadow Court, and the prowess Nia accomplished. No one, except a spirit, a voice in between the pages.

“Could you tell me more about what you did?”

She answers almost immediately.

“From what point did you want to know?”

“From the beginning? There’s so little I know.”

Her answers come in parcels, little by little, one by one, easier to follow, and to recall.

“I was to depart with my master, Scholar Vash, on a journey to the Temple of Ellara, way down South, near Riverbend...”

Nia writes, or speaks, the difference is minimal, and she reads, all night long, and well into the morning, that soon washes the world anew.

“𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 about your companions, Nia. They seemed like quite the memorable bunch...”

“Oh, they were. Rambunctious Mal, who taught me card tricks and whose ribald songs I tried not to remember... Imtura, who sung too, her Orcish sailor songs, and grabbed Mal by the shoulder — a most hilarious sight, for she was much taller than him and lifted him off the ground. Tyril of the noble house Starfury, who pretended he did not sing but hummed melancholic tunes of his childhood when we were the only ones awake in the moonlight. Kade, sweet but sharp-tongued Kade, who sung and wrote the most, to our glory and our feasts, and never to our defeats. And Earis, who did not sing with her voice, but with her eyes, those of a leader, a friend, and a lover.”

“Which of these was the cat?”

The diary vibrates softly, maybe a breeze blowing through an open window, or a little laugh like a distant carillon in the wind...

“Threep was a Nesper, not a cat. An honest difference.”

A few spots of black ink dot the page for a few instants without a word covering the page. It’s a sign Nia is mulling over her words, perhaps invoking a memory even more distant than the others. Respectfully, she lets her think until the last words of the day mark the page.

“The life of a Priestess was most silent and lonely. What I loved them most for were their voices and songs.”

“𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 inside a body that bore all resemblance to mine, but did not belong to me anymore. I would have felt light-headed if I had had a head; I would have felt nausea if I had had a stomach. But all I had — all I was — was an impossible sense of dread and doom. I had faced corrupted elves and malign foes and monsters in the Deadwood, but I had never felt the sheer terror of being a vessel to great evil — hurting and killing with my own two hands, abandoned by the Light.”

She swallows hard. The temperature of the room seems to have dropped drastically; a chill washes over her body. She can feel the weight of a thousand-year-old threat, somber and suffocating, looming over her skin, in the dark of her room.

“How did you save yourself? How did you kill him?”

“I listened to them. All of them. They were begging me to keep fighting. To not relinquish a single fraction of my mind to the corruption of the Shadow. To trust in the Light and brandish it like a sword. And when I couldn’t trust in myself anymore, I knew I could lean on their voices, strong and unwavering.”

“You are the bravest person I’ve ever met, Nia.” (Then, remembering the priestess’ blockage to present times, she crosses out are and replaces it with a were.)

“I was emboldened by those around me. I could not take any credit for it.”

“But that’s exactly why they were brave too. They were made brave; by you.”

Is it specks of humidity that discretely stain the paper, or dots of melted wax from the flickering candle? Are they droplets from her world, or Nia’s?

“Nia, I want to ask you one more question.”

No answer. Nia never forgets to answer; she’s listening. Attentive and quiet, as she imagines she must have been when they were all gathered around a campfire, listening to one of Mal’s cock-and-bull stories, or Imtura’s raids on unsuspecting ships.

She takes a deep breath. The quill subtly shakes between her fingers.

“After what you’ve seen, all that you’ve lived through, all that you’ve suffered... you could confidently say the world was a terrifying place, right? Scary and malevolent?”

“I could have said that, yes.”

“I know you don’t understand the concept of ‘today’ or ‘present’, but... it still is. The world is still scary and bleak and dark today, and everyone has forgotten about the Light.”

“It was already a dying force when I prayed to it every night. I could feel its weakening heartbeat slipping from my fingers like a wounded creature...”

“And yet you’ve always spoken with grace, poise, humanity, compassion, and kindness. With love. You believe in love. Even after all of this, even after Scholar Vash and the Deadwood and Duke Erthax and the Dreadlord, you believe in love, and in humanity, and in betterment. How?”

“What else was there to do? I couldn’t stop believing. It’s all I’d ever had. It’s all that’s ever made humans better. Love, compassion, and faith in one another. In a greater power.”

“But Nia... wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything, and everybody believed in you? When you lived peacefully in Whitetower with your master and felt magic at the tip of your fingertips? When the world was still pure and untouched? When you hadn’t been betrayed and corrupted from the inside by greed and envy?”

She takes a look outside the window. The rhythm of the bustling city slows down as an ochre evening settles on the capital, and all the merchants and soldiers head back to their homes. To think, one thousand years ago, Nia walked the same streets every day, her heart full of love and understanding — the same streets low-lives and scoundrels, and criminals and murderers, and selfish and evil men walked every day, on their way to destroy the fragile balance of things... And to think Nia would have still believed in goodness and in the Light had she seen them strew their grime on the streets...

Lost in her thoughts, she almost forgets the answer she’s awaiting.

“It was comfortable, but not beautiful. I found true beauty when I found my family. If no one believed in me when I ran away from the Church, then they believed in me; and if I believed in nothing, then I believed in them.”

Somewhere, in another realm, another dimension, another space and time, a sudden realization blossoms in Nia’s mind, softly but all at once. Very slowly, Nia’s invisible hand strikes out the last few words she wrote.

“And to this day, I am sure of it, I still believe in them.”

tagging; @softeninglooks @fives-cup-of-coffee (all my writing) ; @lxncelot (playchoices) ; @missameliep @bladesappreciationweek

#this is ... kind of weird lol but it means a lot to me #mywriting #playchoices #choices stories you play #blades #blades of light and shadow #bladesaw #nia ellarious #nia ellarious x mc #nia ellarious x f!mc #nia ellarious x reader #nia ellarious imagine #blades imagine #playchoices imagine #playchoices fanfic #i wrote this in one sitting haha i am absolutely nuts #emma 🏀

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peonyblossom · 6 days

Text

Ships I'll Write For

for reference :)

Pixelberry

Alpha

m!Channing Lowe x m!MC (Kalani Mochizuki)

America's Most Eligible

Carson Stewart x f!MC (Juliet James)

Blades of Light and Shadow

Nia Ellarious x f!human!MC (Iris of Riverbend)

Valax x f!human!MC (Iris of Riverbend)

Mal Volari x Tyril Starfury

Mal Volari x Tyril Starfury x m!elf!MC (Hades Nightbloom)

Bloodbound

Adrian Raines x Gaius Augustine

Dirty Little Secrets

m!Carpenter (Emmett King) x m!MC (Brooklyn Peters)

High School Story

Wes Porter x Ezra Mitchell

Payton Saunders x f!MC (Lola Williams)

Michael Harrison x nb!MC (Jamie Baxter)

Mia Warren x Katherine

Hollywood U

Thomas Hunt x f/nb!MC (Jackie Winters)

Hot Couture

Marco Di Vincenzo x f!MC (Analise Moore)

Immortal Desires

m!Cas x m!Gabe x nb!MC (Reese O'Malley)

It Lives Anthology

Noah Marshall x m!MC (Harry Spear)

Noah Marshall x Connor Green

Connor Green x m!MC (Jesse Harrison)

Ava Cunningham x f!MC (Raven Adams)

Stacy Green x f!MC (Ivy Lovelace)

Imogen Wescott x f!MC (Fiona Vance)

Tom Sato x m!MC (River Vance)

Danni Asturias x f!MC (Merliah Vance)

Abel Flint x nb!MC (Ollie Bridgers)

Lincoln Aquino x nb!MC (Keagan Burke)

Amalia de León x nb!MC (Lottie Hamilton)

Jocelyn Wu x f!MC (Eleanor Wilkins) (slowburn)

Matthias McQuoid x m!OC (Ezra Wilkins)

Open Heart

Ethan Ramsey x m!MC (Sydney Valentine)

Ethan Ramsey x Tobias Carrick

Aurora Emery x Sienna Trinh

Queen B

Zoey Wade x f!MC (Quinn Hughes)

Ian Kingsley x f!MC (Quinn Hughes)

Untameable Anthology

m!Kit Jackson x m!MC (Jules Rojas)

Mandy Martinez x Ryder Wilson x m!MC (Barrett Kemp)

Grey's Anatomy/Station 19

Mark Sloan x Jackson Avery x Lexi Grey

Mark Sloan x Jackson Avery

Meredith Grey x Derek Shepherd

Meredith Grey x Andy Herrera

Victoria Hughes x Lucas Ripley

Izzie Stevens x Denny Duquette

Ben Warren x Miranda Bailey

Cristina Yang x Teddy Altman

Maya Bishop x Carina DeLuca

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oceanatydes · 4 years

Text

she’s so cute 😍

#nia ellarious #choices #choices nia #bolas nia #nia #blades of light and shadow nia #blades of light and shadow nia ellarious #nia x mc #nia x f!mc #choices blades of light and shadow #choices bolas #bolas #bol&s #blades of light and shadow

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choicesficwriterscreations · 5 days

Text

CFWC F/AotW: May 26 - Jun 1, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱 = Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Nia Ellarious 🎨 | @erixadraws

CRIMES OF PASSION

A lazy morning in 🎨 | M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd C: @thosehallowedhalls

A Time to Heal ✒️🎨 | M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - artbyainna (IG) C: @jerzwriter

Trystan and MC 🎨 | M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @bayleedraws-sometimesx

THE CURSED HEART

Welcome to the wedding of… 🎨 | M!Kieran x F!MC - @artbyalz

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Cassius and Lavinia 🎨 | Cassius Harlow x F!MC - @erixadraws

THE NANNY AFFAIR

That’s Amore 📱 | M!Sam Dalton x F!MC - @peonierose

NIGHTBOUND

Funko Pop Love ✒️ | Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

OPEN HEART

Complete Open Heart F/AtoW List - Week Ending June 1

RED CARPET DIARIES

Garden Interlude ✒️🎨 | Thomas Hunt x F!OC - artbyainna (IG) C: @theartoflovingthomashunt

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Capitulo (Series) ✒️ | Liam x F!MC - @belencha77 Chapter 25: Paseo por las ruinas Chapter 26: Juego Justo

Disbelief ✒️ | Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis - @alj4890

Murder at Vista Heights (Series) ✒️ - @angelasscribbles Chapter 6

Size Doesn't Matter: A Bad Romance Drabble ✒️ | Multiple Pairings - @angelasscribbles

The Royal Romance Rewrite (Series) ✒️ - @fadingreveries Chapter 2

#cfwc fics of the week #cfwc art of the week #playchoices #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #choices fanart #blades of light and shadow #crimes of passion #the cursed heart #immortal desires #nightbound #the royal romance #red carpet diaries #the nanny affair

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suoirallesalta · 3 years

Text

A Masterlist of all @suoirallesalta edits!

Every edit is tagged under #suoiredits. edits are sorted acc to their books! enjoy

click here for my art masterlist!

Making Sabina in the Character without using Character’s assets style (edit challenge

Kepler, in only the harness.

f!Adam

Jen in her dress including the lingerie

Simon Montjoy in Ava’s dress

younger Mitzi Montjoy

AVSP MC as on the cover

💫 Nia Ellarious

the perfect pair? (Nia x MC in an AME crossover)

Goddess of the Sea (Nia x Sunkissed edit)

Nia and Imtura with... moustaches

Nia with TE Alma’s hair and MTFL Ava’s outfit (#suoirandom edit)

Nia as Neisha (new avatar)

Starry Nia (#BladesAW)

Empress of The Shadow (#BladesAW)

Nia as BloodBound women: Kamilah (#BladesAW)

Nia as BloodBound women: Rheya (#BladesAW)

the pretty young girl next door (#BladesAW)

Quartermaster Nia Ellarious (#BladesAW)

Nia Ellarious as TE MC (#BladesAW)

Nia Ellarious as Shreya (#BladesAW)

Nia Ellarious in her dress including her lingerie

nia ellarious hot goth girlfriend

The Priestess (GIF edit) (Nia in RC outfit)

Tyril Starfury

cold and broody™ vampire elf (#BladesAW)

cold and broody™ bodyguard (#BladesAW)

cold and broody™ elementalist (#BladesAW)

cold and broody™ orc (#BladesAW)

cold and broody™ designer; feat. f!Tyril (#BladesAW)

f!Tyril (#BladesAW)

Tyril with f!Blaine’s hair (#BladesAW)

rogue-ish Tyril Starfury (with a beard)

The Mage (GIF edit) (in RC outfit)

Scream(o)s from the inside (Kade album cover edit)

Bald-ur (#BladesAW)

Damn those elves and their magicks (Mal - Aerin hairswap)

Modern Rogue-ish Mal Volari (with a beard)

StarCorp

Blades of Lust and Sensuality

Jax Tora and Robin Matsuo (face swap)

Duke Richards in the banana mascot outfit from Platinum.

Charlie Smith

A relaxing day at the waterfall! (edit inspired by Charlie Premium Scene!)

Quartermaster of the Dreadlord (DSAW)

Quartermaster of the Flotillan Pirates (DSAW)

Siren of The Light (DSAW)

Charlie as Atlas, Eli and Shreya from TE (DSAW)

Maggie

Maggie! M-Maggie? (MM and DS Maggie Crossover)

Maggie with HC Hazel’s hair and QB Poppy’s outfit. (#suoirandom request)

Oliver Cochrane

Oliver Cochrane as Luke Hemmings

oliver cock rain (DSAW)

f!Oliver (DSAW)

Distant Sores (Charlie x Edward face swap)

DS MC using BaBu2 sprite (DSAW)

Distant Couture // Hot Shores (DS x HC crossover, DSAW)

Ayna Seth

student!Ayna and professor!Ayna

Ayna as Imogen from ILB

buff ayna

Ayna as Jackie in the Open Heart 3 CG

vampire!Ayna

Ayna Seth

Ayna Seth as a Lovelink Match

Ayna Seth as Robin Tora

aynia ellarious

TA meets TA (Ayna - Aiyana Midthunder crossover)

Blaine Hayes

m!Blaine in f!Blaine’s dress

f!Blaine as m!Blaine

Blaine with PT Raleigh’s Hair and MOTY MC’s outfit (#suoirandom edit)

Blaine Hayes edit inspired by @aestheteasteria’s icon

Tatum Mendoza

John Somerset x Tatum Mendoza crossover

Tatum in Ayna’s dress / Tatum as Ayna

politics reporter and student (FA mc x WT mc)

MC with ATV Pax’s hair and TNA Robin’s outfit (#suoirandom edit)

Ayna x MC

girlfriends

partners

Bodyguard Murphy (lmao)

Murphy Icons <3

I think I got the address to the wrong Murphy

Skye Crandall x Gerard Way

Dark Mage Ajay (choicedits challenge)

Power Duo (Luz x MC)

Bridgette Gardner with TRH Cedric Vescovi’s hair and PM Hayden’s Outfit (#suoirandom edit)

Luz Estrada in her dress including the lingerie

Noah Marshall in the banana outfit (edit request)

Sadie McGraw

Sadie McGraw (in the TNA MC’s Golden Dress)

A bit younger Sadie McGraw

Sadie McGraw (in casual(?) outfit)

Aislinn Tanaka

Aislinn Tanaka in QB Poppy’s outfit and diff black hair

aislinn tanaka hot goth girlfriend

aislinn tanaka hot goth girlfriend 2

aislinn tanaka girlfriend

aislinn tanaka’s v short hair

Gabe and MC as Mal and Nia

Babe Ricci with long hair

The Boys

Ava as Britney from ILITW

IGHT (NB face swap)

MC with TE MC’s hair and BB MC’s outfit (#suoirandom edit)

bryce.. lahela .. and,, uh.. bryce sterling..

Rookie Ramsey

Rookie Varma

Raleigh Carrera

Raleigh Carrera with AME Mackenzie’s hair and VOS Naomi’s outfit (#suoirandom edit)

An exclusive sneak-peek at Raleigh Carrera’s fuck-the-stereotype Vinyls look that has got the fandom in meltdown!

Raleigh Carrera with BOLAS MC’s hair and THM Eris’s outfit. (#suoirandom edit)

A Very Wilshere Christmas! (Album Cover)

The Hottest Couple of the Industry (Avery x MC)

Poppy is just angry Avery

Zoey Wade

“Besties!” (mc and Zoey as Mc and Ava from MTFL)

priestess zoey wade

zoey in floral

zoey in floral (beach-wear edition)

TA Zoey Wade

Zoey Wade as Atlas Ernhardt

Zoey Wade in TE MC’s gala outfit

zoey in the dress she gave to mc in the first chapter

Ina/Ian Kingsley

Ina Kingsley with TF Becca's hair and BB Kamilah's outfit. (edit request)

Ina Kingsley with TNA Sam’s hair and WT MC’s outfit. (#suoirandom edit)

Veronica with TNA Sofia’s hair and ACOR Sabina’s outfit. (#suoirandom edit)

MC with BP Courtney’s hair and QB Poppy’s outfit.

how (ridiculous) mc would look if she actually wore that ligerie under that dress

📰 Robin Tora

Asian Robin as Ava Lawrence from MTFL

Asian Robin as Ava Lawrence from MTFL (#2)

Asian Robin as Ava Lawrence from MTFL (#3)

Robin as Mikasa Ackerman from Attack on Titan

Jax Tora and Robin Matsuo (face swap)

Robin in an oversized baggy shirt

wait, wrong Robin- shit (Sofia TNA edit)

Robin Tora as Robin Tora and Robin Tora as Robin Tora

Robin as Cassian in Witness

Robins at the beach

robin hood

asian f!robin tora as blaine hayes

Flame the Crow & Me : One Boob (TC&TF face swap)

Annia Adairious (TCTF AW)

orc!Val (TCTF AW)

Kenna Rys with NB Katherine’s hair and HSS Principal Rivera’s outfit (#suoirandom edit)

🌙 Atlas Ernhardt

Atlas Ellarious

Atlas, the adventurous elf

Queen of Vampires, Atlas, of Clan Ernhardt

Vampire Queen Atlas (edit #2)

Atlas, the Snow Princess

Atlas, the Moon Princess

Atlas in genderfluid flag colors!

m!Atlas in f!Atlas’s Gala dress

f and m!Atlas swapped

☀️ Eli Solaris Russell (my mc)

Eli’s first (accidental) spell cast!

Eli’s momentous first day at Penderghast

⚙️ Beckett Harrington

“Small dapper Beckett… confirmed.”

Beckett as Connor from Detroit: Become Human

Shreya Mistry

Shreya “Wonder Woman” Mistry

❣️ Pend Pals

“All dressed in black.”

Pend Gals on a night out in matching black outfits (#1)

Pend Gals on a night out in matching black outfits (#2)

Magick Docs (OH crossover)

Pend Pals in Belvoire attire

Pend Gals on a night out after the Amorelia Day Gala (faceapp faceswap edit)

The Elementalists - Across the Dimension (2D art crossover)

💞 Shreya x Atlas

“your eyes, they shine so bright”

“Hey Shreya.. Marry Me”

“Wedding Day!”

💞 Beckett x Eli/MC

Beckett and Eli in a western setting

Eli x Beckett face swap

Eli x Beckett in Robin x Sofia art (lmao)

🌟 Double Trouble (Eli/MC + Atlas)

Hydrobreath (Eli + Atlas)

“my younger twin sister” (double trouble x mtfl edit)

Misc

Blood of the Sun (a spinoff movie poster)

Coolness of metal and water-atts (meme)

Alma with FA Dionne’s hair and D&D MC’s outfit (#suoirandom edit)

Sam Dalton

Sam Dalton as Sam Dalton and Sam Dalton as Sam Dalton

Sam Dalton with BB Serafine’s hair and TCTF Val’s outfit. (#suoirandom edit)

Sofia as Lady Dimitrescu from Resident Evil

the cake on sofia’s skirt works as floral print

John Somerset x Tatum Mendoza crossover

Vampire Harlenay

Flynn o’Malley in fem VOS characters’ hair

Flynn o’Malley in fem outfits

Anna Koishi

Anna Koishi, at the club, with short pink hair

Anna Koishi with TE Atlas’s hair and PT Avery’s outfit. (#suoirandom edit)

Anna Koishi as Atlas Ernhardt

politics reporter and student (FA mc x WT mc)

Asian f!Dakota with Hispanic f!Dakota’s hair

Daenerys, the mother of dragons (using TRR mc)

TRR mc as Daenerys (edit #2)

the greatest witch of our time (BB mc as Hermione Granger)

me before you (poster edit with TRR Mc and AME Adam)

Aquaman (ft Cassian and Ava)

Wolf Bride wolf in Poppy’s outfit

Imogen Dragons

rip fallen books

The Crew (DSAW)

Wizards of Waverley Place (THOBM edit)

omg a hit tweet (pb meme)

Choicedits Challenges

ACOR Sabina without using her assets

OpH Jackie without using her assets

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger using Choices assets

Priestesses of the Light

Coldplay’s Higher Power album cover using only Choices assets

Asian Wolf Bride MC as TE MC

Lovelink Edits

Nicholas Adley in Pirate Outfit

Jamie Grant in multiple outfits from HERO

#choices #pixelberry #playchoices #play choices #suoiredits #the elementalists #choices foreign affairs #choices queen b #robin tora #Blades of light and shadow

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storyofmychoices · 4 years

Text

An Adoption Story

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage Series]

Characters: Mal Volari, Daenarya (F!MC, human), Rayden (OC), Lydo (OC), Gareth (OC), Nia Ellarious, Mr. and Mrs. Silvius (OCs), Beary (Rayden’s stuffed bear that Daeny bought him) Book/Setting: Blades of Light & Shadow (post book at Mal’s Orphanage) Word Count: +/- 1,500 Synopsis: The hardest part of running an orphanage is the adoption part. Emotions run high when their first visitors come looking to adopt a child.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Miss Daenarya?” Rayden whispered solemnly, his grasp on Beary tightening.

The cacophonous hum of the crowd buzzing about the busy streets of White Tower almost drowned out his quiet plea. Almost. Although they were not presently in danger, Daenarya had developed a keen sense of hearing, keeping her ears trained for causes of concern. Her hand instinctively drifted around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her safely at his tone. “Yes, Rayden?”

The young boy’s head hung low. His dark, shaggy hair covered his eyes. “Nevermind.”

Daenarya guided them away from the crowd’s movements and toward the town fountain. Taking a spot on the smooth stone surface surrounding the cool, sparkling waters, she tapped the space beside her.

Rayden shook his head, remaining in front of her.

She shifted on the edge of the ledge, moving closer to him. Her delicate fingers curled under his chin lifting his face to hers. His dark eyes shimmered like the fountain, both reflecting the sun in their waters.

Swiftly, Daenarya brushed his hair out of his face searching his body for any signs of harm. “Are you okay? Did someone hurt you? What’s wrong, sweetheart? Talk to me, Rayden?”

He sniffled, his eyes closing as the first tear slipped out.

“Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me,” she promised.

“It’s not.” He whimpered before throwing his arms (and Beary) around her neck.

Daenarya’s heart grew heavier unsure of what was causing his pain. Rayden had been nothing but a ball of light in their lives since first meeting him a few months back. This was quite unlike him. She held him close; her hands gently massaged his back, attempting to soothe him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Rayden buried his head in her neck, his warm tears wetting her skin. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to lose you. ”

“You won’t, sweetheart. Where’s this coming from?”

“I like it here with you and Mr. Mal. I don't want to go someplace else.” He clung tighter to her.

Daenarya’s face fell in realization.

Three weeks earlier…

“This is Gareth. Gareth, these are my friends, Mal and Daenarya.” The Priestess practically glowed as she made the introductions. “They’re going to be taking care of you for a little while. Is that okay?”

The little boy, about seven-years-old, nodded. His dark eyes were sunken against his deep olive skin. His voice was soft, “Are you my new mom and dad?”

Daenarya’s eyes closed at the question. Nia had mentioned that Gareth’s parents were victims of the Shadow’s court's corruption of the Temple of Light. He had been living on the streets outside the Temple for almost a year when she found him.

Mal clapped his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder bending over in front of him to get on his level. “Sorry, kid...but, that doesn’t mean we won’t care for you any less. This is a safe place. I promise we will take very good care of you.”

Gareth nodded sadly. “Do you ever think I’ll have a mom and dad again?”

“I hope so!” Daenarya offered, moving beside them. “It’s our job to help you find a family and take care of you until then.”

“Does that sound okay?” Mal questioned with a raise of his brow. “Hang out here with us until we find you someplace better?”

“I guess that would be okay,” he agreed, a half-hearted smile gracing his lips.

One Week Earlier…

“Thank you very much for agreeing to see us,” a noblewoman offered, looking around the room. “You have a quaint little establishment here.”

Mal rolled his eyes at the low level of disdain in her tone. Daenarya nudged him discreetly, reminding him to be on his best behavior.

“It’s our pleasure to have you here. Nia spoke very highly about you and your husband, Mrs. Silvius,” Daenarya replied warmly. “You’ll have to forgive us, we’re rather new at this.”

“As are we, my dear.” The contemptuous tone he had noted earlier in her voice disappeared as a hopeful smile broke across her face. “May we meet the children?”

“Of course. They’re upstairs playing. If you will just follow me.” Daenarya led them upstairs. She had prepped the children to let them know that a potential adopter would be visiting. While they hadn’t really understood what that meant, they did understand that it could mean a new home for one of them.

At first, the children were nervous, sticking together rather than speaking with the Silviuses. After a couple of hours, the four children were happily sharing stories and showing the two newcomers all of the things they loved.

“They’re all amazing children,” Mr. Silvius noted, once the adults had retreated to discuss the visit. “I can’t imagine what they’ve gone through. You do wonderful work with them. You should be proud.”

“Thank you. We are.” Mal wrapped an arm around Daenarya’s waist. “I know first hand how hard it is to make it on your own at such a young age and the dangers you face. I couldn’t stand by and watch other children face what I had to. We don’t take this lightly.”

“We understand,” Mrs. Silvius agreed. “It is clear you care deeply for all of the children.”

“We do,” Daenarya answered. “We’ve grown to love them all, which makes this harder, but we know finding permanent homes for the children is what’s best for them and that is all we really want.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I think we’ve made our decision.” Mrs. Silvius looked to her husband who smiled in agreement. “My husband has always wanted a son. All three of your boys are amazing, but I think Rayden is our choice. His smile lights up the room.”

Daenarya’s heart dropped to her stomach. She felt Mal’s grip around her tightening. They knew it was always a possibility, but they weren’t ready for their journey with the brothers to end. She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears threatening to form. “Rayden is a wonderful choice. He and Lydo are incredible. You couldn’t have chosen better.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Silvius glanced at her husband once more who shook his head. “We would only be taking Rayden. Lydo is sweet, but taking on two children might be more than we can handle right now.”

Before Daenarya had a chance to process it, Mal stepped forward. “Then you can’t have him,” His voice was stern, but not harsh; there was a tenderness there. “I grew up on the streets, but the one thing that got me through was my sister. She was my world; I’m not sure I would have made it without her. Rayden and Lydo have been through more than you could possibly understand. They are the only family each other has left. I won’t allow them to be separated.”

Mrs. Silvius looked toward Daenarya. “I’m sure there is some arrangement that could be made. Perhaps if we make a sizable donation?”

“No, I’m sorry. As Mal said, we won’t separate them. There’s nothing more important than family.”

“I see. Will you let us think about this?” Mr. Silvius questioned.

“Of course, we know that this is a difficult decision and one that will affect the rest of your lives and the lives of the child or children you welcome into your family. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Present Time…

Her lips turned up as she hugged him closer. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with us.”

“But those people, they took Gareth away. I don’t want to go,” he repeated.

“Those nice people are going to give Gareth a home and a place to live and grow up. They’re going to be his new family. He’s going to have a mommy and daddy who love and take care of him again.” Daenarya stroked his hair softly. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He shook his head. “I like it with you and Mr. Mal. Beary and Lydo do too.”

“I know, Sweetheart. I like it like that too,” she admitted. “We’re just going to have to enjoy all of our time together, okay? But, I promise you that no matter what happens, Mal and I will always be here for you and Lydo. Okay? Always! No matter what!”

She held him safely in her arms until his sobs subsided.

Later that evening...

“Mal…” Her voice shook, as her nerves got the better of her. There was a nagging in the pit of her stomach and it had been growing since the first day he arrived. His confession today only made it worse. “We may have a problem.”

“Daeny, what’s wrong?” His strong hand caressed her cheek, as he pulled her in immediately noting her concern.

“I know our job is to provide these kids with a home until we find them a better one… and I know we can’t do this with every kid, but….,” she tried composing herself. “I don’t want them to be up for adoption. I don’t want to lose him—either of them.”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

“Rayden and Lydo.”

A low laugh rumbled from his lips as he exhaled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I don’t want to lose them either,” he confessed, breathing easier. “I thought it was just me. There’s just something about those boys. Maybe it’s because I see myself in Lydo—”

“I want to adopt them,” she blurted out quickly before he could finish his thought. She clapped her hands over her mouth. She had meant to be more subtle or lead into it.

“Oh, my beautiful Kit.” Mal brushed a kiss on her forehead before pulling her snuggly in his arms. “I do, too!”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Perma tags: @lilyoffandoms ; @raleighcarrera ; @mfackenthal ; @the-soot-sprite ; @virtuallytakenby ; @zeniamiii ; @kaavyaethanramsey; ; @xjustin-ethansgirliex ; @caseyvalentineramsey; @trappedinfanfiction; @anotherbeingsworld ; @tyrils-star ; @nikki-2406

@choicesficwriterscreations

Blades Tags: @princess-geek ; @brightpinkpeppercorn ; @missameliep ; @mvalentine; @walkerswhiskeygirl ; @nyastarlight ; @edgiestwinter

#Mal Volari #Nia Ellarious #Mal Volari x MC #bolas #blades #blades of light and shadow #fan fiction #Daenarya #mal x daenarya #the orphanage #lydo #rayden #gareth

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homeformyheart · 3 years

Text

choices masterlist - commissioned art & art gifts

DO NOT REPOST.

non-event posted art

coming home - adrian raines x mc (amy) from bloodbound by @liaamari17 prom pic - colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler) from ride or die by @liaamari17 the bad boy - noah harris from my two first loves by @miyeoncey

ride or die appreciation week // august 6 - 11, 2021

prom date - logan by @miyeoncey surprise - colt kaneko by @miyeoncey

distant shores appreciation week // march 28 - april 3, 2021

day 2 - charlie smith by @jimin-gyu day 2 - the governor’s daughter by @jimin-gyu day 3 - captain edward mortemer by @jimin-gyu day 3 - edward mortemer by @jimin-gyu day 4 - private waltz by @muggesarts day 4 - lieutenant oliver cochrane by @jimin-gyu

blades of light and shadow appreciation week // february 12 - 18, 2021

day 1 - tyril starfury by @jimin-gyu day 2 - mal volari by @jimin-gyu day 3 - nia ellarious by @jimin-gyu day 4 - imtura tal kaelen by @jimin-gyu day 5 - aerin valleros by @jimin-gyu day 7 - in plain sight - mal volari x mc by @knightinshiningflannel-art day 7 - paper faces on parade - tyril starfury x mc by @knightinshiningflannel-art

platinum weekend // january 28 - 31, 2021

queen of our heart - f!avery wilshere by @kissingagrumpygiant a kiss, why not? (f!avery wilshere x f!raleigh carrera) by @fel-fisk back hugs are the best (m!raleigh carrera x mc) by @ruiruicchi more hugs (m!raleigh carrera x mc) by @kissingagrumpygiant power couple (m!raleigh carrera x mc) by @meindraws bonfire (m!raleigh carrera x mc) by @somewillwin cover art (m!raleigh carrera x mc) by @penbattles

the crown & the flame appreciation week // january 8 - 14, 2021

day 1 - portrait of an aurelian queen - annelyse adair by @miyeoncey day 2 - diavolos nevrakis by @gwygle day 2 - king tevan drammir by @miyeoncey day 3 - his name is bubbles by @inorheona day 3 - sparky by @cashweasel day 5 - empress azura by @miyeoncey day 6 - i am kenna rys by @cashweasel

other holiday-related art

vampire kiss under the mistletoe - jax matsuo x mc (bloodbound) by @fel-fisk

holiday event gifts 2020

raleigh carrera from/by @mazeeque for #choices family potluck snarky ethan: part 1 | part 2 for @drethanramslay (art by @cioccomello) for @choicesholidaygiftgrab flynn o’malley for @whiskeykneat / @boneandfur (art by @jimin-gyu) for @secretsantagiftexchange holiday bryce: part 1 | part 2 for @kelseaaa (art by @jimin-gyu) for #choices family potluck captain edward mortemer for @hashiedraws (art by @jimin-gyu)

the elementalists appreciation week // december 5 - 11, 2020

day 1 - double trouble onesies (atlas x mc) by @cioccomello day 4 - aster & celeste hang out with the fae (aster x mc) by @isabeladraws day 4 - under the mistletoe (beckett x mc) by @somewillwin day 4 - ice skating (beckett x mc) by @somewillwin

#my commissioned art #my choices commissions #choices masterlist #not twc #masterlist #long post

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lorirwritesfanfic · 3 years

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hi lori ♥💗❤💕

tell me about Blood Ties and Soft Side if you haven't been asked about those, please? :)

Hi, Jen 💕 I hope you're doing well 😊 sorry for taking so long to answer... My curse as a writer is to have many ideas and a slow creative process 😓 Anyway, let's talk about the WIPs:

Blood Ties (working title) | Stella Lovejoy, Rebecca Lovejoy, Nate Sewell

While reading about TWC lore in a file compiled by someone I don't remember exactly (thank you very much for not helping getting this info, Tumblr 😑), I had a headcanon about Rebecca's reaction to catching MC with Nate. Though Rebecca is friends with Nate and trusts him, she still would be concerned about how far Stella and Nate's relationship will go and what might happen if things get too serious:

"Stella..."

"Yes?"

"We shouldn't..."

"I thought we were past the 'fighting temptations' phase," she purrs between kisses.

"Somebody might see us."

"I'm sure Adam will survive..." She whispers as her lips slowly graze his neck.

"Actually, I meant--"

Before he could finish, the door flies open. Stella looks over her shoulder and color drains from her cheeks as she sees the person standing on the doorway.

"Shit..." She mumbles.

"Yeah..."

Stella settles beside Nate as Rebecca walks into the training room, eyes narrowed at the vampire.

"If you two are done here, I believe Nate has a research report to finish."

"Mum!" Stella glares at Rebecca, who remains impassive.

"She's right. I do have a report to finish." With an apologetic smile to Stella, Nate places a kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you at night."

"Okay."

He then stands up and heads to the door.

As the vampire dissapears in the hallway, Stella gets up and walks to the other side of the room, untying the hand wraps when Rebecca steps closer.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

"So soon?"

"I have work to do, mother."

They may be in good terms now that Rebecca revealed some of the many things she has been hiding from her daughter. But the harsh tone in Stella's voice when she called 'mother' reminds both of them of times they weren't speaking to each other.

"Can't you spare a few minutes to talk?"

Still annoyed, Stella glances at her mother, but doesn't put up a fight. "I'm listening."

"How is the training with Agent Sewell?"

"Good."

"Is that it?"

"Nate says I'm faster, more agile."

"Hmm... good."

"That's what I said," Stella replies, adding her equipment to her bag.

Rebecca inhales sharply.

Despite sensing her mother's annoyance, Stella puts on her jacket and zips it up, ready to leave at any moment. She doesn't feel like chit chatting. Once the mood she was in for was killed, the only thing she wants is to take a shower and go to work. If her mother really has something to say, she'd either have to go straight to the point or leave for another opportunity. Preferably, some other time when Stella doesn't feel frustrated.

"Perhaps Adam could also work with you on your combat skills."

"Why?"

"It's his specialty. Your skills will improve faster."

"No, thank you. I prefer Nate."

"Everybody knows that, Stella."

The detective arches an eyebrow at her mother. "Is there a problem here, mother?"

"No, I--"

"Then I don't see the point of this conversation," She talked back, picking up her gym bag to leave.

Soft Side | Mal Volari x Nia Ellarious

This is part of a OT3 (Nia x F!Orc!MC x Mal) headcanon I had while playing Blades, but focusing on how things started between Mal and Nia:

Several minutes passed by as she removed the blood from his moustache, her pulse quickening as the cloth brushed over his lips. He didn't say a word. Neither did she. But it didn't make the fluttering inside her belly any less intense.

"You don't have to do all this."

"I disagree. I might have broken your nose."

"I caught you off guard. You simply defended yourself, which was the point of the training."

"But I told you I never meant to hurt anyone. Besides, someone needs to tend your wounds."

"Odd... This must be the first time anyone ever considered it."

Despite the smile on his lips, it didn't reach his eyes. Instead, he looked away as if lost in thought.

"What about the many countessas you were with? Didn't they help you with something like this?"

"They weren't so many..."

Nia watched him for a moment, then resumed to cleaning the cloth in a small bowl with water next to them. "So you lied."

"I just stretched the truth a little."

"That's still lying," she stared at him deadpan. "But they must have--"

"No."

"But you had an affair with these women..." She insisted.

"They came to me to forget their worries. They never stayed for long."

"Oh..." She nodded, carefully pondering about what he said.

"It's alright, priestess. I've taken care of myself just fine all my life." He gave a non-committal shrug.

"I believe you," she answered, pouring some of the healing potion into the cloth. "But everybody needs someone hold on to."

Thank you so much for the ask! Have a lovely weekend 😘

[Ask me about my WIPs]

#lori answers #moonrisedreams #wip ask game #twc fanfic #nate x f! detective #blades fanfic #mal x nia

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toglidethroughlife · 4 years

Text

Brighter Than Any Star:

An intimate look at everyone’s new favorite bass player

(or the blades band au that nobody asked for)

*inspired by @iaraiumi‘s STUNNING guitarist tyril art (here)

tyril-centric and tyril x mc bc this would be 7k+ words if i didn’t focus on just one of them but i tried to give everyone a moment in the spotlight. credits to a fic i read from the 100 fandom years ago for the format

used my f!elf mc ryllea graywater for this (though i guess this is kind of a modern au idk asjdla); also i don’t play any musical instruments i’m sorry in advance for butchering any of the technical parts 😬

Tyril Starfury — with his red silk shirts and slicked back hair — looks every bit the part of a rock god on stage with the rest of BLADES; but here, in the confines of their tour bus, he is a quiet presence, calmly sipping tea in the corner with a notepad and pen in his hands, his mind far away in the early hours of the morning.

If you had told me eighteen months ago that I would be shadowing Broadway darling Tyril Starfury as he traveled cross-country with his new rock band, I would have laughed and called you preposterous.

And yet, here I am, witness to the madness.

Nia Ellarious, the band’s youngest member and resident pianist, offers me a cup of the same tea as Starfury’s, telling me to enjoy the quiet with an almost apologetic smile.

I understand what she means not long after.

(There’s no such thing as a quiet morning in the world of Mal Volari.)

Every bit as charming and flamboyant as his on-stage persona, Volari greets the entire bus a good morning with flourish, throwing both me and Ellarious a magnetic smile before slipping towards the coffee machine with exceptionally light feet. (More on that later.) He taps on every available surface while he waits for his coffee to brew, humming softly as if figuring out a melody right there on the spot.

If Starfury is bothered by Volari’s banging and humming, he makes no show of it, paying him no mind as he continues to scribble in his notepad.

Ellarious beams as the scene plays out in front of her. “It’s not every day that they don’t get on each other’s nerves,” she explains. “Especially in the morning.”

It’s around this time — almost noon now — that Ryllea Graywater, lead guitarist and vocalist, wakes and joins the group, heading straight towards Volari and the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Thanks,” she winks as she takes the cup from him, shooting Volari a shit-eating grin that he returns easily, already procuring another cup for himself.

It should be noted that Graywater doesn’t seem to talk to anyone until she’s had at least one cup of coffee, choosing instead to slide in beside Starfury in the dining booth, eyes darting towards the notepad he’s writing on. They kind of just... sit there, minding their own business amidst the chaos that is the rest of the bus.

(Volari’s launched into an animated story about the inspiration behind last year’s summer hit, “Contessa, Contessa”, but I can’t help being drawn to the more quiet story unfolding behind him in the dining booth.)

Slinging one arm against the backrest of Starfury’s seat, Graywater casually invites herself into his space, a thoughtful smile on her lips as she looks over the notepad in his hand. There’s an openness between them that tells me that this isn’t a new occurrence, a comfortable ease in the way they seem to be engaging in a wordless conversation.

“He’s kind of really private,” I recall the younger Starfury sibling, Adrina, telling me about his creative process years ago, at the release party for his collab album with then rumored girlfriend and writing partner Kaya Duskraven. “He’s always been a perfectionist. Doesn’t really let anyone other than Kaya hear anything until it’s finished.”

But there’s no trace of that here, in this quiet moment with Graywater, bright, almost triumphant smiles on their faces as she picks up a pen and scribbles something on the pad too, immediately tapping out a melody against the table as if to test-run it by Starfury.

The smile he gives her is glowing.

I look away — suddenly feeling like an intruder in their private moment — catching the tail-end of Volari’s Contessa story, right before Imtura (no publicly released surname) accidentally slams me against the wall when the bus makes a rocky turn.

“Oof, sorry there little guy.” She raises both hands in apology before heading straight for the coffee machine, haphazardly dumping its contents into a generous-sized mug before immediately proceeding to consume said coffee as she plunks onto the other end of the dining booth.

And that’s how the first morning of me shadowing BLADES goes.

Ellarious tells me I’m lucky it was a good one.

With over 16 years of experience under his belt, Tyril Starfury has been in the music and entertainment industry far longer than the rest of the BLADES members combined. At the tender age of nine, he won his first piano competition, regarded highly for his precision at such a young age. He would continue to play competitively until he discovers a new love — musical theater.

It’s no surprise that Starfury ends up on Broadway — he comes from a long line of revered artists, all of them regarded as geniuses of their time. Though some would argue that his family name opened doors that would otherwise be unavailable, no one could deny that it was his clear, soaring baritone and unrelenting work ethic that kept him on stage.

It’s on this stage that he met young Kaya Duskraven, an understudy in one of his shows, prompting a fruitful five-year partnership spanning two EPs and a mini-concert series, Stars in the Dusk.

(The name was a little on the nose, but the critics loved them all the same.)

The two shared such a comfortable rapport, on and off-stage, that they naturally sparked dating rumors — Starfury was always quick to deny them.

No one could have expected the partnership to end on such a bitter note.

To this day, no one knows the real reason behind their fallout — Starfury walked out in the middle of their televised performance without apology or explanation — though there have been no shortage of rumors and theories, a lot of them involving one Eleryn Rosecoven, better known in the industry as Shadow Court bassist dXenia.

I tried to bring it up once, after several bottles of beer have been consumed and the band is swapping stories over s’mores made over the tour bus stove.

I’ve never been shut out so fast in my life.

There’s an audible crack from the s’more now crushed in Imtura’s hand, her piercing amber eyes seemingly driving a death sentence into mine. Volari sighs disapprovingly (and dramatically) at me, and even Ellarious — friendly, cheery Nia — looks at me with a pointed glare, turning off the stove, signaling the end of s’mores night.

“I would prefer not to comment,” Starfury nods at me, years of practiced courtesy showing in his tone and all I want in that moment is for the earth to swallow me whole.

Graywater follows when he excuses himself from the group. Everyone else avoids me like the plague.

It’s hours later when Starfury and Graywater return to the bus — I pretend to have fallen asleep in the dining booth in hopes that I can avoid their fury until the morning — but Graywater approaches me with two cups of tea in hand, an unreadable expression on her face.

She slides over one cup to me — if the scalding temperature of the tea is intentional, she makes no obvious show of it.

“Look,” she begins with an exasperated sigh. “I know you’re only doing your job here. And we did agree to this article, so I’m sorry if things got a little tense back there.” She pauses, as if considering her next words carefully. “We’ve all lived moments in our lives that we’re not proud of. Tyril’s had to live his in front of the public eye. He’ll talk about it when he feels ready to... but his past doesn’t define him, none of ours do.”

I nod, understanding that this is the last we’ll speak of the subject. She smiles as if in truce, telling me that I don’t have to banish myself to the dining booth and that no one will pull any pranks on me if I sleep in the shared bedroom.

I barely catch any sleep anyway.

There’s a ferocity in the way they protect each other that I didn’t notice at first — it could be subtle sometimes, like in the way Volari always checks in with each of the band members every night before going to bed (even though Starfury usually brushes him off); or in the way Imtura always makes sure every one stays hydrated (feel free to interpret that however you wish, whichever way is true); or in the way Ellarious always has some form of baked good running in the oven, more often someone else’s favorite rather than her own.

(I learn the hard way that no one is allowed to get in between Imtura and her cupcakes. No one.)

It’s also plain as day whenever they’re on stage together, their set list a carefully curated show that highlights each member’s strengths without anyone getting overworked. Everyone’s always quick to catch each other whenever they hit snags along the road — there’s a moment in one of the shows when Volari’s mic suddenly gets cut off and Starfury swoops in without missing a beat, a small nod of the former’s head seemingly the only cue he needs, the trust between them implicit.

When I had asked earlier why he’d joined BLADES, Starfury simply shrugged, as if it was no big deal.

“It was by accident. I happened to be at one of their shows and they needed a bass player. We kind of just… worked and we’ve played together ever since.”

But this kind of chemistry doesn’t just happen by accident. No, this is the product of months and months of hard work, of opinions clashing and arguments spanning days before sitting down and realizing it’s not impossible to see eye to eye; it’s battles won and battles lost together, respect earned and trust merited.

To call them just another band seems too small a word almost. Insufficient.

They’re kind of like a family.

(If your typical family involved regular knife and axe-throwing contests, that is.

... it’s best not to ask.)

Tensions are high backstage at Deadwood Festival Grounds.

Volari has been pacing around non-stop. Ellarious looks like she’s using every bit of her willpower not to bite her fingernails. Imtura keeps violently tapping her drumsticks together. Starfury’s got his arms crossed in a corner, brows furrowed.

Graywater is doing a handstand for no apparent reason.

The anxiety is understandable — tonight’s a crucial moment for the band.

With only one more show before the grand finale at Whitetower Stadium, all the bands are doing their best to retain the crowd’s favor, each playing well-established fan favorites, saving the riskier song choices for the finale.

That is, everyone except BLADES.

They’re planning to debut two new songs tonight, both of which written solely by Starfury.

It’s a ballsy move on its own — no one’s exactly itching to drop the ball on their fans this close to the end — but add in the fact that Starfury hasn’t released any solo-written music since the Duskraven fallout and you’ve got the makings of a battle that could either go incredibly right or disastrously wrong.

Let’s back up a bit.

After the Duskraven breakup, Starfury had gone into something of a hiatus (if that’s what you call disappearing off the face of the entertainment industry) before dropping the 13-track self-written album, “Honor,” without prior notice or promotion. Fans were ecstatic to hear from him after his sudden break, but critics were less enthused, calling the album ‘a brash, arrogant attempt at flipping the metaphorical finger at Duskraven that ultimately falls short’, noting the clear absence of Duskraven’s touch in his music — all technicality, no soul.

Starfury’s penned a couple of songs with BLADES since, spanning genres as colorful and diverse as its writers, but there hasn’t been a solo venture since Honor, leaving long-time Starfury fans anxious to hear him take lead again.

Graywater calls everyone into a circle, locking eyes with Starfury as she gives his hand a squeeze.

She makes a speech that I‘m not privy to — but everyone is visibly more resolute after she speaks, each raising their fists to meet in the middle of the circle.

“I’m honored to be on this journey with you all,” I hear Starfury share, a glittering smile spreading on Volari’s lips at the statement.

“I knew you liked us!” he says, crossing the circle to throw an arm around Starfury’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Group hug!” Ellarious laughs and Imtura closes the circle into a solid embrace.

Starfury appears to be in shock — as if this is the first time this has happened — but he recovers quickly, a quietly contented smile on his face.

The last streaks of daylight have disappeared by the time they’re called to stage, the crowd restless from a long afternoon under the blistering heat.

Darkness has fallen.

But then the opening chords to fan-favorite “Murderous Masquerade” cut through the evening air, a flurry of flashing lights bursting through the sky, and the Deadwood comes alive.

Volari takes center stage in his flashy black and gold ensemble, working the crowd with such ease that it’s no question why he’s been dubbed the band’s de facto showman — he’s frankly just mesmerizing to watch.

Next up is “The Priestess and the Warrior,” an epic tale crammed into four and a half minutes of heart-racing drum beats — provided by the insanely talented Imtura — with a tender piano-driven bridge near the close, Ellarious’ heartbreaking vocals driving the whole thing home.

Graywater takes lead in the third number, “Flirting with Monsters,” a delicate neo R&B number that sounds nothing like the title suggests, her earnest, airy vocals lulling you into a comfortable, almost dream-like state as she entices her lover to stay.

The one thing common between the seemingly weird mishmash of genres is Starfury’s steady bassline, providing a much needed thread of cohesion to the set list. Where Volari, Imtura, Graywater, and even Ellarious tackle their music with the raw aggression of fresh blood on stage, Starfury attacks with quiet, seasoned finesse, his expertise evident in tracks like “Watch your back (or I’ll watch it for you)” and “Drakna Queen” — two unconventionally energetic numbers that would be difficult to listen to live if not for Starfury’s sure hand bringing them harmony.

“Alright, we’re gonna slow things down for a bit,” Graywater announces, eyes sparkling with excitement as she looks at Starfury. “Tyril’s got a new song and we want you guys to be the first to hear it.”

By now, I’ve seen enough of Starfury’s performances to say that he’s not a nervous performer. Even in the earlier stages of his career, there was always a quiet assuredness about him — which could have also been easily called arrogance — and while that’s still present now, there’s something different about the way he interacts with the crowd, a sense of humility present in the way he put his hands together and gives them a brief bow before he sits himself in front of the piano.

“I would like to dedicate this to a person very special to me,” he begins, his fingers gentle on the keys, a soft, lilting melody dancing in the air.

(He’s not even the least bit subtle about the way he looks at Graywater.)

“She has reminded me, time and again, that hope and love, when we allow it, can shine the brightest light in the dark.” Graywater shakes her head as if to shrug in nonchalance, but she meets his eyes dead on, her smile beaming with pride.

Turning to the crowd, Starfury adds, “I hope this gives you as much joy as you’ve given me. This one’s called ‘Kilvali.’”

For the next minute, it’s just Starfury and the piano, the world quiet as his voice fills the air. If there was ever any doubt that Starfury had lost his vocal prowess, there wouldn’t be any now. His voice is clear and strong — reaching even the farthest row of people on the music grounds — albeit with a softness now that I’ve never heard from him before, his attachment to his music feeling infinitely more personal.

“All my moments with you are worth whatever pain that came before,” he sings, his voice soaring as the rest of the band join him in the second verse. The performance is even more powerful with the added instrumentation.

Tiny cellphone flashlights illuminate the crowd as they sway their hands in time to the song, the emotion in Starfury’s voice rolling out in waves.

Twitter user @notmxwllbmnt13 sums it up nicely:

SJSKJSJSK TYRIL STARFURY KILLED ME TONIGHT!! ALL!! THE!! FEELS!!

(It really was beautiful.)

The crowd cheers as the song draws to a close, but the battle’s not over yet (as Starfury would tell me himself later) — the true test lying in whether or not his second song proves a testament to his newfound voice in songwriting… or if it’s just a one-time stroke of luck.

“If it’s alright with you, we’d like to play you another new one,” he says and the applause is deafening when he turns over the mic to Volari, the latter pulling him into a one-armed hug before taking to the crowd.

If Duskraven’s interviews post-breakup are to be believed, Starfury has never — not once — written a song that wasn’t intended for himself. (She claimed to have co-written plenty of solos for Starfury, but he allegedly never returned the favor.) A quick glance at his repertoire would make this allegation appear true.

“It is true,” he tells me simply when I bring it up later in the tour bus. (Despite the coolness of his voice, I notice him shift a little in his seat.) “I was... unconfident, extending my words to other artists like that. I was also prideful and arrogant — afraid to face the judgment and criticism of my peers, and for that, I truly am sorry to Kaya. She deserved better from me as a partner.”

It seems Starfury has taken that incident to heart. Listening to “Purple Dreams” with Volari’s teasing falsetto on the forefront, it becomes clear that Starfury wrote this with the former’s vocals in mind, the flirtatious mix of his sassy vocal riffs and playful onstage antics giving the song a delicious, intoxicating energy.

It’s probably the most experimental I’ve heard from Starfury as a writer, both in terms of lyricism and melody.

“I’ve learned a lot this last year, creating music with BLADES,” he explains. “Not only did I find a new perspective on songwriting thanks to them, but my bandmates also gave me the courage to try things outside of my comfort zone and to allow myself to make mistakes. They inspire me.”

Years ago, he was dubbed as stiff and awkward outside of the theater stage, with Duskraven providing all the charm in their partnership, but now, on stage with BLADES — as Volari points his sultry gaze at him, singing his own lyrics to him — Starfury smirks, leaning ever so slightly against the showman as his hands tease along the guitar strings, driving the crowd wild.

It’s clear by the end of the song that Starfury has won over the crowd, and for once, he actually seems to revel in it, his smile beaming as he takes in the applause.

The rest of the band are even more thrilled for him, each leaving their posts to engulf him in another hug.

He doesn’t hesitate this time, allowing the fond gesture in front of their adoring crowd, each of them savoring the quiet moment, and I think, out of all the times I’ve seen Starfury on stage, this has to be my favorite version of him.

In the company of his friends, lifting and supporting each other, Tyril Starfury shines brighter than any star.

“We haven’t talked about what we’re doing after yet,” Starfury admits when I ask him about the future of BLADES after Morella Fest. (Each of the members are also solo artists in their own right, after all.) “But whatever happens at the end of the tour, we’ll always have each other, regardless of whether the band continues or not. I can’t imagine my life without these people now and I hope I never have to.”

He’s smiling as he says this, watching his bandmates fight over the last levenfruit before he excuses himself to join them, Graywater and Ellarious easily making space for him in the dining booth, Volari and Imtura rounding out the little world that now seems completely their own.

This article also appears in BLADES: The Most Ambitious Crossover Event in Morella Music History. You can find the full feature on www - kadethebard - com.

tagging: @sophie-summer ✨

#playchoices #blades of light and shadow #tyril starfury #tyril x mc #playchoices fanfic #reposting bc i am dumb and have a fake external link in the fic that made tumblr hidethis from the tags #bonus hc:#threep is there even tho i didnt get to include him #he’s a stray that just showed up one day and no remembers who fed him first #(it was mal)#but they keep feeding him anyway and he kind of just stays and travels with them #kade has caught each of them talking to threep (when they think no one is looking)#as if the cat could talk back #EDIT: why wont this show up in the tags im stresseddddd #my fic

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