Alysia's Farewell

She will be remembered as a hero and protector of our great nation, and we shall forever be proud of her great sacrifice.

— Princess Andrala of Aletheia, Sworn of Sarenrae

Sit down, for this is a longer tale. These pages hold tell of the great sacrifice made by Alysia Undria for the Aletheian Empire, and the most secret letter she wrote to her dearest friend - her brother, for whom she would not have done this without.

The Unbroken March by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

The mission of the Champions is a heavy one, and things do not always go to plan. In the year 5623, The Lost Ones sought the Shards of the Void, guided by the hands of the same gods who had thrust the burden of their mission on them. They arrived in Yulan Sheng alongside the Starcrowned and Jinne in hot pursuit of the Unbroken March, a Shard in the form of a book.
Their trail led them to the Endless Archive, and down into the Shard's very lair. There, time went wrong, minds broke, and they painted their bloody heroics across the Shard's twisted mockeries. Three years passed during the fight, though to the Champions, it seemed like none - a consequence, then, of the March's magic.
In the end, they stood victorious with little consequence. They stood over the Unbroken March's prone form, its pages stilled, and spoke together. They decided as one that to ensure the book's destruction was complete, they would take it to the throne of Death herself. To the domain of Pharasma, where life and death are interwoven, where fate is written.

They had made a crucial mistake. The Shard was not inert. It had not surrendered. They took it into Pharasma's domain, and in an instant, it lashed out with its power over all written word. It seized the fate that bound three mortals - Iomedae, Cayden Cailean, and Norgorber - to their deific ascension, and severed it. Three gods, felled in an instant. The ramifications were immediate. As the Lost Ones dealt with deific scolding and found a fitting end for the Shard, the universe trembled at the sudden destruction of three gods who had existed for millennia.

In the Aletheian Empire, the effects were immediate. The cursed lands of Tenaerul had been bound for milennia by the noble sacrifice of Ypolita Ouranios, Iomedae's Champion. Her life had served to empower the shield surrounding the fell lands with a direct conduit to Iomedae's might.
With Iomedae's fall, so too fell the shield - or it would have, were it not for the newly-crowned Emperor of Aletheia, Emperor Aneirin 'Cyne' of Aletheia. As the Champion of a fey demigod, he could funnel his deity's power into the shield as an emergency measure. And so he did.
Day after day, he poured power and life into the shield. A slow death, a slow sacrifice - but a sacrifice, nonetheless. It would buy them time until a better solution could be found, even if a demigod's power could never see Tenaerul's corruption contained forever. His decline was fast, and no help seemed to ease the ever-increasing suffering.

Emperor Aneirin by Helena Nikulina (for Hanhula)

He sought the aid of High Priestess Aetha Tinuval and the wealth of knowledge available to her, and when no answer came from her books, he looked further. Deeper, to the depths of Hell itself.
It was Asmodeus, Prince of Hell, who responded.

You really think I'd consider a literal deal with the Devil if there was any other possibility? There's a war on and you've got shards to find. Ashlyn can't rule until those are done, and Alysia...

— Cyne to Licia Galewen

Read the Document

Alysia's Farewell

Dear Cyne,
I know you too well, you know. You're standing at the desk, hands either side of this letter. You probably already know what it says, don't you? The gist of it, at least. You're too clever by half.
I'm sorry. I wish I could have said my farewells in person. I wish we could've had just one more moment, but... I don't know if I could have done this, if we had. I wish this didn't have to happen. I love you. I love you so much. My beloved brother. My protector. My hero. My best friend.
I think you should hear, in my words, what happened.
You were dying, we both knew it. You kept telling me that it'd be okay, that you were a Champion, so it would be fine... but you know I can tell when you lie. Neither of us want to rule an empire, after all, and I know you worried about leaving me the burden of it, even with Ashlyn and the others to help. I wouldn't be a very good empress, though. My curse and my prophecy are really the least of it. You've been through so much! My brave brother, cutting down assassins and fighting on the front lines of evil. The people love you, all of you, as you are - for the hero you've been to them, despite the way so many treated you so badly.
You're strong enough to lead them. I'm not. And you'll do what I couldn't in defeating prejudice. Maybe it'll be enough to stop Drast's anger, if we're really lucky, but I doubt it.
So... when you were fading, I looked everywhere for a way to stop it. I thought about the Champions, if they could do anything, and... there's only one way to seal Tenaerul. We've known it since the beginning. A Champion's death. And I wasn't going to very well ask Azyel now, was I? Nor any of the rest of them. And especially not you.
I knew the price of the choice I made the moment I made it. I would make it again a thousand times if I'd had to. I never needed anyone else from the moment you started sneaking over to me; I had the best big brother anyone could ever ask for, and with this.. I could finally do something for you, too. If our roles were switched, if it was me that lay dying and you knew the way to stop it - would you really do anything different?
I can't imagine what trickery Asmodeus is working behind the scenes to answer a desperate call to any god that would grant me my wish, but to save you, I am honoured to be his Champion. My soul is not his, so please, do not worry for my spirit! I'll be up in whatever realm Pharasma sends me to, waiting for you to one day catch up. Maybe I can find Albion and Taerien! We'll talk and talk and talk and I'll tell them all of the grief you carry for them.
...I wish you'd told me. I only learnt after I took the mark, in a prophecy that crashed down on me. The last of them, really. It makes.. so much sense. You wore the grief so much heavier, and I don't think it.. ever left you, did it? Oh, Cyne... Albion would have understood. You had no way to know.
By the way, please find Kazric after this. He's helping me do this, one last time, because.. I don't want to be alone at the end, and he's the only one I can trust to let me. He's certainly made enough sacrifices himself, hasn't he? We had a very, very long talk. And there were a few drinks. Just a few for him, and only one for me. Just enough courage to get me through the end of this.
I asked him what it's like to die. He gave me a hug. His pains were brief, he said. You don't hold onto them when you're dead. Pain is for the living.
We're leaving for the edge of the barrier as soon as I finish this. The plan is that he'll take me there, flying high through the stars, and he'll... help me hold the blade steady. So I can repeat Ypolita's pact. So my time can end, and yours will endure.
We don't really know how it works, but... if he can, he'll bring me back to you. I want to rest with our family, in our ancestral crypts - so please make sure wherever I rest, there's room for you as well, alright?
Rely on the others when I'm gone, will you? Licia made me a promise to look out for you, and you know Azyel can be trusted to be a good friend. You have Ashlyn now, too. Our great-great-etc-grand-aunt, Champion of the sun itself. Ashlyn and Mery, Aniks and Celuriel, Licia, Kraia, Cid, Kazric, and all the rest of them... and that's that group of misfits alone. Don't forget your friends, please. Let them love you like I love you. You're never going to be alone again. Even if you think you are: I'll be keeping an eye on you (when it's not weird, of course)!
I've... left letters for our parents, too. They're under my pillow. I know our father has problems with you, but I hope he can push those aside when I'm gone. I wish everyone could just love you as easily as I do.
Part of me wants to keep writing forever, so that you'll send for me, and someone will interrupt what I'm doing to bring me to you, and maybe by some miracle you'll be sitting up and smiling at me with your real smile. I'm never going to be ready to say goodbye. But I have to. I have to.
I love you more than I can ever, ever say or write. Whether you're just my dorky older brother, or Cyne the edgy shadow prince, or Emperor Aneirin Cynos Elyan of the Aletheian Empire and All her Lands and Seas: I love you.
Goodbye, Cyne.
Forever your dearest and best and most loved little sister, Alysia
P. S. I'm telling grandfather that you're the one that set fire to his favourite chair when we were children! AND I'm telling him that you destroyed the replica when he'd already gone!
P. P. S. Kazric helped me cut off a lock of hair. It's in a little bag, in the drawer. If you keep it close, then I'm never really leaving you. Because even if you DO lose it, I'm still not. We'll just be on different planes for a while. I'm sorry, this is.. very long. I love you.
Again: goodbye.

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Lady Alysia Undria by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

Type

Text, Letter

Medium

Paper

Authoring Date

8th Rova 5626

Location

Tenaerul

Authors

• Alysia Undria

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Alysia's Funeral by Hanhula (via Midjourney)

A deal with the devil. A contract signed. The Emperor would be his Champion, and Asmodeus - the Prince of Darkness, the Archfiend, the Lord of the Pit - would in turn both power the barrier and offer Cyne protection without corruption. Though Licia Galewen tried to dissuade him, Cyne saw no other path - not without sacrificing himself, and even that seemed uncertain without the strength of a greater deity behind him.
By the time he finally agreed to the devil's deal, it was too late. His sister, his beloved younger sister, Alysia Undria, for whom he did everything to protect-- his only truly close family member, and the light and life of the entire Empire, an oracle gifted with the power of sight and endless kindness, even with the curse that fell upon her-- she had made her own decisions, and her own deals.
The letter included in this document is the one her brother found next to her still-warm corpse, in Alysia's own bedroom in Ironfalls. She looked as if she were sleeping, her golden hair spilling across the pillow, her blue eyes shut, and a smile lingering on her lips. A sword - her sword - protruded from her chest, a silvered blade inscribed with To light the darkness in Celestial.
By her death had Cyne been healed. By her death had the contract been fulfilled: Cyne's own deal had been signed. The devil had fulfilled his promise. The barrier around Tenaerul stood. An Asmodean pentagram seared its way into his wrist; by Alysia's passing, the role of Asmodeus's Champion had been vacated. Now, it was the Emperor's turn to wear the mantle.
Collapsed on the floor beside his beloved sister, Cyne did not care to think on the implications of the mark he now wore. His sister, his reason for being, was gone. He was utterly, devastatingly alone - and the burdens of an empire sat on his shoulders.
Below is the letter the Lost Ones received from Cyne's estranged aunt; the vessel by which they learned of their latest tragedy.

Dear Princess Ashlyn Alarian, Lady Mery Eventide, Princess Midna Alarian, Lord Aniks Alas'thil, Champion Licia Galewen, Champion Kraia Woodslough, Champion Cid La Flaga, Champion Pin Whisperbreath, Champion Celuriel Geltharieth, and all else in the town of Ironfalls that this letter may concern,
It is with my greatest apologies that I must inform you of the death of Princess Alysia Cerys Miriam of Undria. She passed away yesterday, on the 8th of Rova, in the solemn duty of protecting her brother, Emperor Aneirin, for the greater good of the Aletheian Empire.
She will be remembered as a hero and protector of our great nation, and we shall forever be proud of her great sacrifice. She was a woman possessed of powerful spirit and limitless kindness, and Aletheia shall feel her absence keenly. May the love she held for life be continued in you, and may you cherish the time she spent upon this world.
Following her wishes, a small ceremony for her family and friends shall be held in the morning of the 21st of Rova, and her public funeral shall be held later that day in the Aletheian Palace as twilight falls. The reading of her Will shall be carried out on the 15th, as following instructions she left behind.
With deepest sympathy,
Princess Andrala of Aletheia, Sworn of Sarenrae

Lady Alysia was laid to rest in the royal crypts of Aletheia by her brother and family. Grief at her passing swept the nation, for she had become a symbol of hope and unity in the depths of war. That grief still lingers, even months on, for hers was a light that never ceased.