Nation Announcement The Sun Rises, Unbound..

Woahitstim

Woahitstim

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"This is it... Fight for your future, their future..."
*A notice would be spread far and wide across Eden, a heavy message for all those to read.*
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8.12.1553
(Saintsday 8, Godsnight, 1553)
The Emerald Dusk

To the peoples of all nations, friends, strangers, and enemies... I bow my head to you; too long have I been complicit in the cruelty dealt out by the Arbor. In truth, for long, I have been eclipsed in the blood of those whom I swore to protect upon Elaine's death. That blood is on my hands having sat idly by, believing that I was only doing my duty to the forest, that despite my reservations, I was following orders... No more. Corithiel was our path forward, a chance to truly unite the Glade under one banner and pull ourselves into a new tradition. Instead, I have squandered it by allowing this Dominion to become a puppet of the same ideals that pushed our loyal citizens out in disgust. So now, I strip myself of my second face and be earnest with you all; I am ashamed of my actions... No apology will ever repair the damage I have done, emotionally or physically, to those I called friends.

I call upon the spirits of the Arbor to judge me and so to the Corithiel Court. I will make the Dominion my penance and my life's work. Hear me, as I will bear no crown and hide behind its weight. No longer will I advise from the corona cast around the shadows that bound me. Now is the time to perform beyond ones measure. While I may never repay my dues to the world that has so graciously kept me alive, I will ensure that Mitrona will no longer rule with fear, that Corithiel shows equal representation of the entire Glade, and that all may look to the dawn every morning and feel its warmth on their skin, remembering it is a new day.

Let all corners of the world know the sun has risen on the Dominion. While there are plenty of shadows to chase out, let our actions prove a new era of tempered diplomacy and a blooming society.

Signed,
Khari'Galle, Apollo L. Oré'Solis'till​
 
The Aeri'Cill looked out towards the Arbor from the balcony in her office, the words from the night before ringing in her mind. A faint smile played on her lips. The silence and peace was disrupted briefly as the scroll was delivered to her. Her fingers trace over the words, a broad curve of her lips gracing her face

"Khari'Galle indeed...."

She looks back to the East, where the sun was rising over the top of the Arbor

"I now sense my counterpart in the truest form.."​
 
[!] Atticus looked over the missive, reading it closely. His eyelids relaxing with his look, although for the most part his glare was unmoved. Regardless of how he felt, reading over this now provided a sense of relief for him, satisfaction..

He burned the paper in his hand, the ash that was left compared to the surface area of the paper was minimal, dusting off to the street below with the soft breeze that pushed past him.. The metal feet of his prosthetic legs moving on, unable to help the sounds he made from metal feet on paved stone..

All he could think was that time would only tell if Apollons message to the world was genuine.
 
A pastel pink tiefling read over the missive, raising an eyebrow "Takin'ver th'stick o' torment? Perhaps'll b'ble t'redeem tha' damned for'st" She took note of the new-to-her title at the bottom of the paper and headed on to wherever she was going.
 
Briette is curled up in a corner of the Thyst library reading when she gets the missive. She puts down her book, scanning the words. She reads it once, twice, a third time. Confusion and concern are evident on her face. "....Glade Father?" She whispers to herself.

She packs her travelling bag that evening, determined to return to Mitrona and ask her Papa about this new development.
 
Asif would eventually find his hands upon the paper with aid of one of his servants. His eyes looking to the crest at first with a raised eyebrow before he read further. Keeping his lost arm to rest upon his arm-chair, the Sultan formed a small smile, a sense of relief to know what was to come for he lands in the east. However, curiosity would itch the back of his head. Giving him a brief recent memory of his last talk with Apollon.

"Kindness is all we have left, Tovara." He'd repeat himself, folding the notice and hand resting it upon the small coffee desk to his right.

Asif would go ahead to rise from the seat, gazing to the armor set he had prepared for the upcoming battle for the Undead. A hope that if he were to survive, that he could get his chance to share a drink with the newly appointed Glade Father.
 
As the Lunn's gaze flickered with flashes of electricity, he couldn't help but grin. Taking his pipe, he'd use a spark to light it, with a deep drag he quelled the light behind his eyes. Fenrin read over the words once, twice, then finally exhaled the smoke with a sigh. "Swift to act... for once. Hm." Stepping back from the notice board, he'd stroll down the road, a trail of smoke lingering behind. There was much uncertainty ahead, change was needed, but only time would tell if this was the right choice.
 
Malakai lounges on a couch in the Thyst Library, the note suspended in thin air by gentle winds that keep it steady. His eyes crackle with electricity as he takes in the words, the spiderwebbed scarring across his face pulsing with that same gentle hue.
He hadn’t been to the Glade since the fight with the werewolves; for reasons of his own, that he came to learn many others shared.

These words felt like the first real breath he’d taken since her death. The note gently flutters off after a bit, re-pinning on the board for any else to read; and Malakai sinks down into the seat, his head rested back, eyes toward the ceiling.
He has many thoughts, but one stands out among the rest:

“It always should’ve been you.”
 
From one ferry to another, Ivory had been spent on travel for the next year or so. The sights of the sea, terrifyingly beautiful, and a visit to her home island with her desired life-long companion offered her new strength that reinvigorated her with purpose. Her legs moved with haste while traveling to her bungalow, yet something caught her eye. Something that drew her closer to the notice board. Her eyes read over the missive slowly, carefully, due to her left still causing some blurred vision here and there.

"Apollon?" It must have been that her eyes deceived her. "Khari'Galle? What in the Ancestors' doing has happened in Mitrona?"

Her mind raced with uncertainties, consumed by fear of what might happen if that other one caught wind of it. Perhaps she already knew? Regardless of the finer details, her concerns shifted with reassuring thoughts that those of the Forest chose Apollon before his missive; they chose him after their beloved Tiefling Khari'cerr's death. He has proven his strength, his commitment to the Forest---to the Glade.

The screeching voices silenced themselves and her mind found peace. Anyone in their right mind knew that Apollon deserved this, yet feared the quick and volatile wrath of the previous too much to say it. Now, it was up to the Forest Spirits and their decision of whether or not to accept him. "You are our beacon of hope, Apollon. Lead us from the deep shadows she's veiled over us." She stuffed her pocket with the parchment and sighed. "One more boat ride won't hurt. Need to find Thaniel and our new Khari'Galle."
 
Upon a northern mountain side, as the tundra winds howl their dusk song. One can see when taking closer a look, a small makeshift campsite burrow in between two mountains. Emerie would be curled by a small crackling fire. Frost nipping her nose and cheek as a snowy mist would escaped out of her every exhale. Covered in many furs and layers, Emeries wraps herself in a thick woolen blanket as if she preparing to settle in for the night.

Once finally tucked in, her owl Artemis, came into view by her side. In her beak two letters would rest in them, one formal one not. She decided to take the more formal looking parchment first and begins to read. Her eyes scan the elegant missive with interest until she finally finishes. Small sense of pride glimmered in her clear eyes before throwing the missive into the slow dying flames before her.

“I’m happy you’re finally taking a stand… brother.” she murmurs quietly upwards towards the winds, hoping her words would carry to him.

Deciding now to settle in, she goes to lay on her back and pulls out the other more personal looking letter and begins to read. She smiles softly at the endearment of the letter, before sleep begins to succumb her.
 
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Caligo reads the announcement a bit later than most others, having been away from the Glade for the past few weeks.

He reads it, then reads it again, then one last time to make sure he is doing so correctly. Finally, when he’s sure his eyes are not lying to him, he smiles. It’s not a happy smile, exactly. It’s more…relief, perhaps? Calm. Acceptance.

“Gods avia’tathirri urramis amn urria, for a new era has arrived.”

Caligo pulls out his journal, copying down the missive. He doesn’t want to forget this; the first time in seven years –or perhaps the first time in his life– that the Glade has been led by someone with a just hand.
 
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