Èdelie { 2 } - Blog Posts
edeliexii:
It’s a troubling situation across the board. Èdelie predicts things will likely become more gruesome as time progresses. While fairly new to all things fey, making the decision to try and destroy the crystal was the right thing to do. The plight she’s beginning to embrace is enough for her to shut down, gnawing at her lesser lip in response to Robin’s recommendation. “I don’t know,” she grumbled under her breath, agitated at the image of her engaging in conflict. “There has to be something we can do where self-defense isn’t necessary. I love… us; I love being a fey, and I’m undoubtedly hurt by what transpired, but this is too much to bear.” And it’s too much to process in such a short amount of time, pondering upon what she can do to help ease the situation. “It’s not my livelihood I have to take into consideration, it’s others I truly care about that need protecting. The question is if doing this is worth it.” Èdelie could promptly evaluation the necessary behavioral decision, imploring the risk factors of it all.
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“I am afraid that it might be impossible to remain in the sidelines,” the words are delivered grimly, lips pressed together into a tight smile as her eyes wander away from the young eladrin. Words form and reform on her mind as the tries to encapsulate the true weight of what they are confronting without scaring the poor dear. Life has never been a fairy tale, and she knows Èdelie is aware of the fact. Robin doesn’t know, however, how well she understands the events on the horizon. Most mortals do not, and she was a mortal a mere months ago. It is heartwarming to see her resolve to help others, her resolve to protect and yet. “Unfortunately dear, it is our livelihood that you should take into consideration. Rome is besieged by enemies, yes, and everyone is at risk, but as an eladrin you are doubly so. Our kind is being hunted as we speak, and while we are setting up our own hunting party to counterattack this, that does not take away the risk for us. “
There is no sign of nervousness as she speaks, even though she would very much like to fidget. Instead, she tilts her head in consideration.
“And truly, Èdelie, we are at the precipice of war with multiple parties, I would dare to say that we are not doing enough, rather than we are doing too much,” the words are grim, but she cannot deny the truth to the young fey, not when she is struggling to make a vital choice. “So to answer your question, the answer is yes. It is worth it.”
There is a weight to her shoulders that she had never expected to receive, a newly settled sense of duty that she cannot avoid. Suddenly, the world had gone off balance, the knowledge she held as true changed with the blink of an eye. Fen’harel was a traitor, and she is the new Autumn Chancellor. The drows return, and the Eye moves. The Blessed are scattered throughout the mortal realm. They lost so many to Asphodel’s spite. She is worried and grieving, both beyond compare, the weight of what is to come settling over her shoulders, and yet, she cannot show it. She is now the newest Chancellor, and leaders cannot be weak in front of those that look up to them. Not to the young eladrin and not to anyone else.
“That depends, dear. I personally recommend you learn more than the basics of self-defense, as things are likely to get complicated,” she begins, expression calm yet warm as she eyes the youngest fey. “But tell me, what do you want to do?
@thegoodfellow.
“Robin?” Èdelie called out, still frizzled from the aftermath of prior events. Cluelessness cannot describe the position the brunette is left in, satisfied that all has fallen back in place, yet mortified of what’s potentially left to come. Body unable to physically move, paleness overtook her features, croakily inquiring, “What do we do now?” Because something must be done, and at this rate, she’d do anything to ensure proper reparations for all feys. Though the idea of getting blood on her hands somewhat startled her, Èdelie physically and emotionally felt defeated, suspiring defeat and tiredness.