The golden Aurilana.

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// Comments are welcome and appreciated! However please don't quote whole works or images, if you need to reference a specific post for your comment, just quote the 'page number' of the post! Thanks a lot

... of the woman that writes upon the pages ...

This maiden stands at 5'8" and is crowned by flowing golden blonde hair. She regards the world with brilliant amber eyes. Her small and supple curves atop her slender yet strong build make her elven heritage clearly evident. Her movements are made with an unconscious grace. Her gentle mannerisms and the melodic lilt to her voice lend a benevolent and welcoming air. She favors the decoration of her kind, small bands embedded with delicate gemstones rest upon her upper arms and precious stones line her belt and adorn her fingers. She wears soft silks in whites and greens, accenting the natural colors with soft golden trim. On her hip she carries three enchanted belt pouches. Either at hand or slung over her back is one of the two: a stave with a softly glowing green crystal, or an elegant double bladed sword staff. A supple leather baldric over her back serves to hold whichever one she isn't wielding. Over her shoulder a longbow often rests. The pack she carries is simple and small, filled with primarily writing utensils and her journal along with healing supplies and several assorted books. Should her arms, back or legs be bare passers by may note that dappled patches of her skin seem to shimmer faintly, scattered glossy sections seeming to catch light on the irregular surface.

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~ A finely kept journal. The cover is unadorned soft pale leather, the binding in carrying the phrase 'The Heart of Hearts' in intricate golden Draconic lettering. The writing within is a flowing mix of draconic, elven and celestial script. Many pages accented with intricate scale patterns, little dragons, various fauna, angels and feathers. ~

~ The first page ~
... in elven...

Woe unto those that walk the paths,
So far from moonlit shore.
Gone afar from Semberholme
Beyond into the west.

Yet afar we find such mystery,
And warm our hearts can be.
For none can guide the truth of love,
And the luring of forgotten history.

So fret not my dear so distant now,
On wings of golden grace.
We'll find what's lost amid the leaves,
And scattered memories of this place.

Now yearn not ye for Semberholme
Where peaceful waters rest,
The great oaks shall grow yet still
While our path wanders west.

~ This page has a great oak tree etched in, it's vast roots hugging the bottom of the page , trunk up the side, and wide branches stretching out to loom over the words and decorate the top margin. Oak leaves are drawn amidst the words somewhat randomly ~

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~ The second page, back of the first left bare ~
... in draconic ...

Forsake me not,
Oh heart of hearts,
For the fire burns within.
Know that I yet hear your call,
and heed it ever still.

On golden wing watch over me,
And know I seek to find
Forgotten things lost in leaves
Until bound in body,
As well as mind.

Love unto me,
My Heart of Hearts,
And those that passed it down.
We will unite in days to come
And ever beautiful be true through time.

~ This page is decorated with small styalized dragons in flight along the margin and the elven phrase "Eldunari" decoratively written in a repeating border along the bottom and fop of the page. ~

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~ The third page ~
... In elven ...

I meet them now,
Day by day,
Adventure bringing thrill.
Then as time goes and they depart
I sit peaceful still

Here is a man of holy vow
Who watches over me and all of those he sees.
Here is a man who of tales tells
and speaks light words to me.

Yet it is my sister
Talant'Vant!
Who stirs my heart anew.
Bespeaking of the quiet trees,
and homes amid the leaves.

~ This page is framed with intricately shaded scales and the inner margin has a sketch of an elven woman in fine elven chain with large shield and a scimitar - an artful rendering of Talant'Vant standing in a relaxed pose. ~

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~ The Fourth Page ~
... in celestial ...

Know the way of your path.
Find it amidst the shadow.
Walk not with doubt,
For hope shall lend certainty.

Truth is a promise.
Make this vow,
And hold others to it,
That your journey be untainted.

~ sprouting from the words are a pair of angel wings that fill the rest of the page with painstakingly shaded feathers. ~

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~ The fifth Page ~
... in elven ...

And so it is that tale weaver
And maid of art go forth,
To craft a story true of battle,
And lessons learned in war.

Set upon a mountain trail
With foes of stature small,
We strike with stave, bow and blade,
Until enemies are naught.

Vicious spawn of Battle Lord,
With fang and cruel thought made
We strike them down and so have found
Our victory this day!

So with dear Fandrell,
I've better learned my art,
And found that he is brave and true
In places that are dark.

~ The margin of this page is etched with flame, and the bottom outside corner bears a rough sketch of a man with a feathered cap and a high collared tunic wielding two light blades doing battle with a veritable horde of bumpy, vicious looking goblins. ~

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~ The sixth page ~
... in draconic ...


That in which we are,
Our loneliest moments,
Are those spent not with ourselves,
But in those moments,
When those with us,
Seem as strangers.

As we are of the father
And kin,
I shall love you.
Yet as I am also of another,
Whatever shall I be
Before you without the scale?

O heart of hearts,
Fire in me,
This is how we are free,
Together.

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~ The Seventh Page ~
... in celestial ...



O! Warrior holy made,
Drawn blade,
Vigilant.

So you shall stand
Valiant strong,
True.

What have you seen
Times past,
Lost.

Come to us now
Seeking path,
Free.

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~ The Eighth Page ~
... in elven ...

As the stars in the sky
Painted by our father,
Are together always
In their beautiful spread,
So are we,
His people,
His children.

So we shine bright,
No matter our path
Ever different in our course,
Yet always kin.
We each love all our cousins,
And our brothers,
And our sisters.

~ The sides of the page are dappled with stars of various shape and size scattered somewhat randomly ~

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~ the ninth page ~
... in draconic ...

set in stone,
cast of ridged ways,
yet makers of beauty still,
in steel and solid things.

so they are stone kin,
founded in bedrock
and like bedrock are
a mystery to me.

yet here is "Gwaar"
beside me now,
to share words in courtesy
rough though they sound.

hail to thee,
o heart of stone,
and let not forgotten
my meeting of you be.

~ A careful rendering of a bald, bearded dwarf in armor sitting on a log is drawn into the page. ~

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~ the tenth page ~
... in both elven and draconic ...

Sunset sage, I hear you calling.
Yet whisper unto me,
What in life is worth living,
if not striving to survive?

Freed me now of moonlit gray
Passion favored my delay,
For kin doth beckon back again,
To walk yet still, anew.

Sleep O childe of sleepless days,
Welcome dreams tender embrace,
Weary made by days dark turn,
Yet comfort in this to learn.

Of wings wide spread in golden hue
Scales free from pain,
And fire that kisses with warm embrace
Those children born of flame.

What shall I be O Heart of Hearts,
What touch is this afar?
The fathers children are not as me,
Forsaking Reverie for Desired Dream.

Drawn astray a wayward child
My path amid the leaves,
Years shall pass yet beckoning still
Are these mysteries.

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this page has been cut out of the journal, leaving only a sliver of shaded page remaining near the binding.

~ the eleventh page ~
... "Caluril" in Espurar, elven script, sketched in color ...

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~ Upon page Twelve ~
... in draconic ...

Kindled is the flame,
Fueling dreams of strength,
Glory in horde,
And the wind under wings.
I come to covet these things,
Birthright true,
And yearn for them.

So shall I be,
That which I am,
Even as I may become
Unto them a monstrous form.
I come to ponder these things,
Judgment untrue,
And fear for them.

Yet I cannot deny,
For I am one born Eldunari,
O Heart of Hearts!
And in my heart I cannot be whole,
Until my feet find this path
To follow it through.

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~ on Page Thirteen, written ~
... in elven ...

Leaf falls, scattering shade and light
My cousin here, alone yet near.
Who are we to judge those that came after,
And should we not give sympathy
To their imperfections?

Made as we are, both first and perfect
Made as they are, after and flawed
Are we not to guide these lesser things
As is our duty as a better people?

Leaf falls, scattering thought and flame
My heart here, beating quickly.
Who am I to witness my kin and speak of their ways
When I am not as they are,
In the depth of my being?

Made as I am, both of the father and another,
Made not as they, for I am not pure.
Is it my place to teach to them to accept the difference.
Or is it my place to be different and judged?

Leaf falls, to burn in the fire
My path is set, an inferno in me.
I will become as I seek to be and embrace my birthright
I will become as gold and master the sky,
For this is my dream
And I will not rest until it is seen with my waking eye.

~ A raging inferno of fire is etched in a multitude of coiling flames up along the back and sides of this page. ~

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~ Page fourteen ~
... in draconic ...



Secret found
My hand has touched
Eyes have seen
Blood burns.