His Legacy – Veils

She slowly unwrapped the parcel in her hands and looked over the beaten and world-weary mask gazing back up at her through empty eyes and an emotionless face appearing effeminate upon the left half and masculine upon the right in subtle ways. She knew this mask, just as she knew the blade it borrowed it’s identity from. This object was just as much a part of Anetho as the sword – the two together formed the basis for his alias shared amongst many, herself once included. This was Orpheus. All that the name was, and could ever be, rested again in her hands. It had far less color along the gilded edges than she remembered, and nearly double the scratches and scuffs. A faint reminder of a sword averted traced it’s way across the bridge of the nose. Her fingers followed it idly, as she lost herself in her thoughts but a moment.

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To The Esteemed Magistrix Liliene Te’Athas,

In your hands is perhaps the most powerful object I’ve ever come to possess. It is not enhanced by means of magic nor particularly special in make; What sets it apart from the artifacts of the world old and new alike, is that it holds to it’s name the power of a symbol. This mask is not just a bauble. It is a living being as you well know, given the breath of creation by those whom would wear it. A familiar face upon an unknown figure. Orpheus is beyond both life and death, the ultimate name of a flawed justice and vindictive heart. Gender is transient, morality a passing fancy, and law but a word. You know these things to be true, for you were as I, Orpheus itself. Cielane Bloodlips, Ian Korvanth, and the two of us comprised it. All four victims of my own mad scheming, and of the namesake that forged this persona.

This mask is responsible for more death than even I may fully be aware. I have often said under the guise  Orpheus has often said that if you were to convince one man of a destiny beholden upon him, he would move a mountain, but if you should convince the masses that they’ve a greater calling, you have an army that is unshakable. Orpheus is a prophet, but never has it possessed clairvoyance. It foretells of a fate it would weave itself, twisting the world to favor it’s own projections, forging it’s prophesized ‘destinies’ for others that they may fall in line and march blindly into the waiting inferno. All of this, in the name of it’s creator; The God it longs to please, but may never be blessed to know. Vindication.

It’s a flawed concept, but one that Orpheus would serve unquestionably. We cannot kill it, but we can do away with the memory until those with the knowledge pass. Generations will come and go, and so too will the name. Lost to time and fickle minds. I cannot do this thing myself as I am far to weak to manage without this object to which I’ve bound my intentions and justified my actions. I know that I’m far to attached to this trinket, and it pains me that even with that knowledge I cannot overcome my inherit limitations. I’ve crutched upon this bauble and that thrice reforged eye-sore of a sword for so long that they too are as much I, as they are me. Vindication. That’s all I ever was. A walking mass of contradictions that shouldn’t magically be explainable or possible. Yet there I was, and infuriated for it.

With the passing of that need, there was a gap that had to be filled and I did it in the worst possible ways. This life, one bound to three names, is not one fit for this world or any other in it. Such a fate I would not wish upon another even in the darkest of practices. Fortunate that we are, it shan’t last much longer. I entrust this final task to you, the last end to be tied off as it were. Take Orpheus – Bury it, shatter it into oblivion, weight it and sink it into the maelstrom, I care not for the means so long as in the end; In the end Orpheus is disposed of. Never again may another be afforded the means to take up the mask of Vindication and Vengeance, that it might breath a life anew. Let the last embers of who I was, who I gave myself to, flicker out of time and space that even the Bronze Dragonflight may not find it.

This, I ask of you. I know no other whom so easily discarded Orpheus and all it stood for as quickly or adamantly as you had. Surely this time, coming from me, as I was when I first looked upon you it would be even easier.

My Enduring Love,

Anetho L. Dawnpride

Magister; Silvermoon Archives

P.S. If you could repossess the sword that is no doubt sitting in the custody of the Reliquary and pass it along to the Death Knights of  Archerus as would be proper, I would be grateful. It was after all their creation before it was mine. Let them lay it to rest in whatever manner is appropriate to their customs as I am unfamiliar. You need but address it to one ‘Ethelinda’ and I rather imagine they’ll see to the rest.

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~ by anethodawnpride on July 23, 2014.

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