Trisyl Fan
A single place of stone, where small feet used to run. An empty house and home, its silent peace unsung. Grief is not a place. This comes close.The scars of war echo. They are present in every word, every garment, and every person. Trisyl Fan is one of war's most visible manifestations, honoured in solemn silence by its many visitors. To those unaware, Trisyl Fan is a simple stone building located in Galasthin's east in the centre of a barren valley, left abandoned save for the dirt paths that track towards it. To those that know the truth of the matter, Trisyl Fan is a moment of heartbreak caught in time. Visitors are welcome to tread the dirt paths and wind their way towards a building left behind in all things, though they must treat the place with respect. Unseen, the Far'einuivis, guardians of the past, keep a careful watch to prevent anything worse from happening in this place of lasting tragedy.
Architecture
You can see the wear on the stone where they walked each morning, the notches on the windows that would have once held shutters...Trisyl Fan may only be one building, but it tells much about the home it once was. A plain house of one story and an attic, a roof patched time and time again, and solid stones mined in the local dieurstone quarry - it is a quintessential example of the mid-3000s style of Galasthin architecture, popularised by a rather famous architect sponsored by House Qu'athari.
Generational Loss by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
Visitors are only permitted to enter under strict watch of the Far'einuivis, and always have a guide with them. Galasthin has failed Trisyl Fan once: it will not do so again. They are walked through a solemn tour of the house and its few rooms.
Most, when asked, remember three the best.The kitchen where the house's owner was assumed to have perished by the ashes present once, the living room where a few enchanted trinkets had survived to provide context to the house's owner being a neophyte druid, and the nursery where a child's enchanted crib lies empty, surrounded by gifts that will never be enjoyed.
The upper level of the house, its attic, is off-limits to visitors that cannot use flight magic due to the fragility of the ceiling, which is maintained only lightly. It is where the home's inhabitants slept, and despite being higher in the sky, managed to retain more of its well-loved contents. Though rarely seen, it provides a glimpse into the lives of innocent townsfolk of the period through the clothes and bedding that have survived.
Hanhula (via Midjourney) by Trisyl Fan
RUINED STRUCTURE
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The Memorial
Before one reaches the house of Trisyl Fan, they shall pass a wall of dieurstone emblazoned with names in gleaming, incorruptible gold. Though not every visitor or inhabitant of Trisyldol could be tracked, for the town was a trade hub and had recently accepted many hopeful refugees into its ranks, those that could be acknowledged were never to be forgotten. The wall of their names is not only present here at the site of their home: a similar wall exists in the reconstruction of Trisyldol nearby, teeming with new life and distant grief, and another stands in the capital of Melaeden. Family members often journey to the walls to meditate as they gaze upon Seren's Light in solemn memory.History
Our fallen cannot be relegated to memory. This was our mistake.Trisyl Fan is the last standing building of what was once the town of Trisyldol. Located in a hilly forest just beyond a plain of flower-filled meadows, it was always known as an idyllic but highly defensible town, known for its easy access to the local dieurstone quarry and swift-growing trees, both of which had ensured that the town thrived. Trisyldol was not as ancient as settlements like Melaeden, yet given the lengthy lifespans of elves, it had still stood - in some form - for millennia. Until the madness of the 4000s. In the wake of Meihua's fall, Xin-Jiyu was plunged into chaos that would not be stopped merely by the barrier formed by the Tulaant Steppe. It could not be called a war, for there were no true sides, but it was madness. Skirmishes broke out across the continent as warmongerers and peace-seekers alike sought to gather forces and bring stability. In the midst of it all were Galasthin and their eternal enemies below the surface - the drow, whose settlements changed name as frequently as a snake changed their skin. Galasthin's foes grew brave, testing the borders and sending in disguised forces of manipulators, often concealing themselves among innocent refugee groups to more easily gain access to the vulnerable. It came as no surprise to anyone when apparent treachery struck Trisyldol. The nearby outposts received sudden word of an outbreak of fighting, of powerful infiltrators with insidious poison that had turned the town against them, of a disaster that would destabilise the region. Hastily, they relayed the disaster to their leaders in the various forces of the Eru'deiara An. There was no time to hesitate, not when the drow had evidently captured a key settlement. They would soon realise their mistake.
Trisyldol, Before by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
Desolation by Hanhula (via Midjourney)
The explosive force was such that the hills and forest the town had once sat on were inverted into a wide, barren valley, upon which no flower would allow itself to grow. No sign could be found of the townsfolk nor the unit, nor aught but the lingering trace of flame and ash - and one house, untouched by some magic.
With elven lives being so long, the loss of a single soul was sadness enough. For an entire town to be lost was devastating. She of Forest was incandescent with her fury upon hearing of the disaster, and immediately demanded an investigation into every mistake that had been made. It could never happen again. Would never happen again.
The lone house standing was declared a monument to their own tragedy. Trisyldol would be rebuilt, but some distance away from the crater, where those who inherited the reborn town could live without the shadow of grief pressing upon their brow.
And no citizen of Galasthin would go without hearing of the tragedy they had wrought.
We are looked at as examples of wisdom rendered in flesh, born to lead and to craft our path through the stars. On that day, we proved ourselves fools. We have failed our kith and kin. So many of us had friends and family in Trisyldol - let us remember them together. Let us keep their names alive, let us pledge their last remaining house as a shrine to their eternal memory.
So sad. Even more so because this could have been avoided. I love that they treat this last standing house with such reverence and respect.
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