The Exquisite Melancholy of Jen’Alliah Starlight – Part 1
Writing is a lot like life.
It’s weird, mind-numbing and monotonous far too often, and full of the most odd coincidences you could imagine.
Today’s post is the perfect storm of all the little things that come with the job. It is also a resounding endorsement that you should do everything in your power to continue to consume new art continually. Not occasionally, not when you get around to it. Hold your nose and dive into the deep end.
An artist whose work I enjoy (@ArtByCelyne) posts regularly on her twitter feed. They’re free work, but they are each a demonstration of her unique vision and artistic talent. I love having her artwork appear in my stream. She has a great eye for shape and shading, and her work is always evocative. Plus she has a propensity to work with Elves and Demons, which I mean c’mon, I write Sci-Fi and Fantasy. Demons and Elves are basically everything good about life.
Earlier in the week, she posted the wonderful work that is the image for this story, as well as the reason it exists.
SHE. DREW. ELF. DARIA.
I cannot overstate this enough. Elf Daria walked into her mind, she put it on paper, AND THEN I LOST MY EVER-LOVING TEENAGE GIRL MIND.
My wife and I share many interests. One of the biggest is our love of certain shows and their stated (overtly or covertly) views on feminine nature and what it means to grow up.
She’s an English Teacher, and I’ve wanted to be a teacher for too many years to count.
So when FREAKING ELF DARIA lands in my lap straight outta nowhere, I reached out to my wife in a calm, rational manner to discuss this with her.
Sure. We’ll go with that. That’s canon now.
After this calm discussion which didn’t include me joy-sobbing that Elf Daria was a thing, I reached out to Celyne to see if she would allow me to write a story about this amazing drawing she had done.
Because she is a stone-cold badass, I am now able to both write this amazing story which practically flew across the page AND display the incredible image which has spawned it.
Tangent: Get the permission of artists (and other creative types) before you use their work. Especially artists. Yes, they might provide the world with a few drawings free of charge, but that is not carte blanche to take advantage of their time and their talents. Consent is a thing. Be strong enough to accept a no. Be willing to move on without being bitter.
Suffice to say, I AM GOING TO HAVE SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS FOR HOWEVER LONG I CAN KEEP THIS SUCKER ROLLING.
The Exquisite Melancholy of Jen’Alliah Starlight – Part 1
Jen’Alliah sighed.
She sat at the back of her various Loremaster’s classrooms and didn’t interact with their lessons specifically so they would leave her alone.
Looking at Feid’yarah’s smiling, almost painfully earnest face, she knew that social interaction was the only way to get back to more important matters.
So she stood, and without meeting the Loremaster’s eyes, Jen’Alliah gave the answer to the question she hadn’t wanted to be asked.
“The Histories teach that humans were destroyed by their own hubris. In eating, drinking, and making merry with no thought for tomorrow, they were in turn denied further tomorrows. Their bones formed the first shells of Elvenkind who now live upon the reshaped Gaia in perfect harmony.”
Jen’Alliah began sitting down before the beaming smile of the Loremaster could catch her. Plus, the Loremaster’s outfit was so loud that looking at it hurt Jen’Alliah’s eyes. The fact that it was no more or less outlandish than most of the rest of the class was irrelevant.
In buoyant fashion, the Loremaster praised her answer and discussed its depth and insight with the rest of the faces which mirrored her own enthusiasm.
Jen once more pushed her classmates from her mind and focused on what really mattered in this Elven Gaia Paradise. Her chin came to rest in her hand, and with deliberate care she continued the sketch she had started.
Jen’Alliah (Jen to her friends) constant drawings, dour expression, and general disregard for her fellow students had isolated her for all of her education. In sharp contrast to the riotous color and bubbling enthusiasm which sustained Loremaster Feid’yarah and the elvish students at Windsong Oakbough Academy, Jen had decided long ago to give herself over to the dark passion whose black waters turned the mill-wheel of her soul.
Ancient humans.
The hand her chin had claimed occasionally fingered the sweater painstakingly sewn during her last free-week. It was dark grey,
covering all of her upper body and its long neck brought the sweater snug against her lower jaw.
In a world full of color and pale pink skin, her covered gray form
shone like a beacon.
Jen smiled as her fingers brushed the cloth. She loved her sweater, overjoyed to have been able to re-create something once worn by those beautiful, terrible humans.
Myst’yedrah, sitting at the back of the class next to her, eyed the drawing
Jen was working on from behind the propped-up copy of The Histories she was ostensibly studying.
Myst’yedrah, Mysti for short, was a stunning representation of elvish beauty. Her face was all soft lines, complete with pointed chin, and her ears were so long that everyone couldn’t help but stare a little. Her eyes were ocean-water teal, and from the very time she had heard the joyous peal of Mysti’s laughter, Jen had been madly in love with her. Well, as madly in love with anyone as Jen could ever be.
“Don’t you think you gave too good an answer there Jen? Wouldn’t want anyone finding out about your obsessions, would you?”
This last was said with a teasing tug on Jen’s sleeve, and when a slight flush hit Jen’s cheeks, Mysti quietly snorted with suppressed mirth.
If there existed an elf within a thousand miles that wasn’t already familiar with Jen’s love of all things human, she’d have eaten her sweater.
To be continued…
Elffully,
The Unsheathed Quill
