Varshya sat back under the boughs of the tall pine trees away from the celebration. Since her early years it felt awkward to her to celebrate. Her young life was overshadowed with war and the destruction of her home city of Crusindiar during the Shadow War. The Shadow War had been a war between The Kingdom of Vychia and the Empire of Xanthakos with the elven homeland of Kaaryn' Zyth as a large part of the battlefield. The elves suffered numerous losses and many settlements has been destroyed. Since then Varshya had been distrustful of nearly all races- especially humans- though other fey were offered a modicum of kindness. Her suspicion of all those that were not elves always tinted her outlook and attitude in all of her relations. She often admitted to herself that it wasn't fair or just but nevertheless it was there. It was a perspective she wanted to let go of and somehow could not. She felt that perhaps she had grown too comfortable with her anger and found that she didn't know how to release it.
She took solace in Mahiya. The ways of the Mother-Father made sense when so much didn't. There were no pretentions, no opinions, no ulterior motives, no good or bad with Mahiya. There was only the purity of life and the cycle of it. To her that was the most sacred thing of all. She took the passing of knowledge to her acolytes quite seriously as it was though she was rearing her children though she had none of her own. She worshipped life yet to celebrate it with overt joy was not in her nature. She smiled at the irony of that.
Yarlia approached Varshya with a plain, dark green, ceramic goblet. "Master? I've some Dalewine her for you if you'd like some." Varshya had watched her acolytes partaking in the festival. They danced and frolicked as though it was their last night alive. Yarlia was certainly no exception. On more than one occasion Yarlia had expressed nervous anticipation at contributing to the Veneration of the Life Cycle. She had never before been to the Grove of Needles and despite the stories told to her, didn't know what to expect. A few possible consorts had caught her eye but still the night was young.
Varshya nodded and accepted the goblet. "Thank you Yarlia. I see you're having fun. "Tis good. Keep with it for Mahiya smiles upon those that honor life with joy." she said. She felt nakedly hypocritical at that moment for she could not celebrate in that way. She felt envious too.
"Won't you join us? Oh please come dance with us! You can't always be the reserved master." Yarlia pleaded.
"I celebrate in my own manner Yarlia" Varshya stated firmly. She had this conversation many times in the past and she was not enthusiastic about trying to justify her stance on the matter yet again. "Now please, be off and keep a watchful eye, always. Soon we will hear the droning and the fires will be lit. Tell all of your brothers and sisters to be mindful as well." Varshya felt that of all of her acolytes Yarlia would most likely be the warden of the Vallenbrush. She showed great promise even in her young years. "Oh and Yarlia" Varshya said with a wink "Do enjoy the Veneration...but don't appear too eager. Patience offers greater rewards."
Yarlia was always seeking approval from her master and truly appreciated it when she got it. With a wide smile Yarlia bounded out to fire and quickly became another wispy dressed silhouette against the fire.
She took solace in Mahiya. The ways of the Mother-Father made sense when so much didn't. There were no pretentions, no opinions, no ulterior motives, no good or bad with Mahiya. There was only the purity of life and the cycle of it. To her that was the most sacred thing of all. She took the passing of knowledge to her acolytes quite seriously as it was though she was rearing her children though she had none of her own. She worshipped life yet to celebrate it with overt joy was not in her nature. She smiled at the irony of that.
Yarlia approached Varshya with a plain, dark green, ceramic goblet. "Master? I've some Dalewine her for you if you'd like some." Varshya had watched her acolytes partaking in the festival. They danced and frolicked as though it was their last night alive. Yarlia was certainly no exception. On more than one occasion Yarlia had expressed nervous anticipation at contributing to the Veneration of the Life Cycle. She had never before been to the Grove of Needles and despite the stories told to her, didn't know what to expect. A few possible consorts had caught her eye but still the night was young.
Varshya nodded and accepted the goblet. "Thank you Yarlia. I see you're having fun. "Tis good. Keep with it for Mahiya smiles upon those that honor life with joy." she said. She felt nakedly hypocritical at that moment for she could not celebrate in that way. She felt envious too.
"Won't you join us? Oh please come dance with us! You can't always be the reserved master." Yarlia pleaded.
"I celebrate in my own manner Yarlia" Varshya stated firmly. She had this conversation many times in the past and she was not enthusiastic about trying to justify her stance on the matter yet again. "Now please, be off and keep a watchful eye, always. Soon we will hear the droning and the fires will be lit. Tell all of your brothers and sisters to be mindful as well." Varshya felt that of all of her acolytes Yarlia would most likely be the warden of the Vallenbrush. She showed great promise even in her young years. "Oh and Yarlia" Varshya said with a wink "Do enjoy the Veneration...but don't appear too eager. Patience offers greater rewards."
Yarlia was always seeking approval from her master and truly appreciated it when she got it. With a wide smile Yarlia bounded out to fire and quickly became another wispy dressed silhouette against the fire.