Masked Memoirs
At the end of everything, hold on to anything.
The Seat of Azem
Lethe
Selected for his resourcefulness and ability to maintain composure in the midst of chaos, Lethe is given the Seat of Azem.Lethe prefers his own company and is often alone, but is never adverse to the company of others. He is usually quiet - a man of action instead of words, and only becomes a bit more talkative when around people he's close with. Despite this, he is very good with mingling among others, and plenty find his presence a comfort. Many know Lethe as a good advisor, healer, and problem solver.He wears a full mask instead of a half one, hiding his face and especially his lip scar. Very few know what he looks like underneath, and everyone else's memory of him is of his mask.
The Seat of Azem
Lethe
Before the Seat of Azem was bestowed upon Lethe - in his younger years, he was never a social individual. Talking with others frustrated him, and his silence frustrated others. A misunderstanding and physical fight with other individuals caused the deep wound on his face and lips.Writing letters was Lethe's way of communicating as his wound healed. During this time, he found a love for words and their ability to comfort. He would write down his thoughts to pass the time, and eventually when his wound healed, started speaking to others a little more.A while after is when he met Hades, and later on, Hythlodaeous.
The Seat of Azem
Lethe
Lethe values his time to himself, especially when bearing a duty that requires constantly meeting and helping others. With a full mask on, he's Azem, but without it, an unknown. Simply being Lethe offers a brief respite from all the burdens he had to bear, however at the cost of being a stranger to the star. It didn't bother him, as he didn't want the recognition - he believed his actions and deeds were enough.
The Seat of Azem
Lethe
In the battlefield, Lethe weilds a sword and a book. He is primarily a healer, but can switch to offense when needed. Lethe casts spells by writing with his sword. The spells are mostly of water, sometimes the appearance like ink.
The Final Days
Letters to the Star
"The fabric of our star began to fray..."
Minutes Before the Final DaysWithin a house far from the city, far from his home and friends, Lethe is providing comfort to a small gathering of people, hiding and cowering. He speaks softly, almost difficult to hear beneath his mask, but the people lean close to listen, his voice a soothing melody drowning out the discord happening outside."Let's write", he says, "to our loved ones, our people, our star."And they do. And it relieves them. Some write confessions, some write about unrealized dreams, some write to their past, and some to their uncertain future.Lethe's paper remained blank. Unable to think of words, and his feelings unclear, he steps outside.Faint screams are heard. The scent of smoke lingers in strong gusts of wind. Something looms above, in the sky now a sea of fire. There isn't much time left, he knew.Removing his mask, Lethe lets out a deep sigh, staring at the blank piece of paper. A few tears run down his face, wetting the paper in his hand.My friends. Only you bear a memory of me like this, and all of you are far away. To die alone, I can bear, but without goodbyes...oh how I wish I could at least send all of you off with a smile, one that which you could see.But to be here with people in need, I don't regret. They've found comfort in Azem, and he will not leave them to suffer. When I return to the star, I hope to meet you all again.
Brave Little SparkDuring his musings, the door opens behind him, and a little one peeks outside. She looks up at him and their eyes meet. Lethe gives her a gentle smile, to which the little one responds in kind.She's unsure of what to write, her parents long gone, and her friends perished before her. Lethe asks her to join him, and they sit together.The clock is ticking.Do you have dreams?She wants to make things. She wants to help others too. Though when asked what exactly she wants to make, she remains silent.Let's make something out of this piece of paperLethe starts folding his paper in whatever way, and the two would take turns. What comes out of it is an oddly shaped flower, or a butterfly, or a ribbon. Nevertheless, it makes her smile a bit.This is our letter. A letter of hope for a future we will yet see, for us in another time, another place. That our courage remains enduring, our hope stays everlasting. It bears your dreams, and a memory of me - our little secret.Together they hold the paper out, it gets carried away by the strong winds, now continuous, raging. The little one looks worried, but looking at Lethe's calm and unwavering smile once more, the world around grows silent.Few know my face, even fewer would remember. In these last moments, I'm grateful to you.A flash of light, and Lethe feels a gentle pat on his head.
