"It's via what's unsaid that tragedies are built. Sometimes a great silence is more destructive then any discourse."
Valerna Jorgenskull
Philosophy
Her philosophy is a convoluted weave of wisdom borne from the tribulations of slavery and the sharpened edges of her observations regarding power and influence. Her world, brutal and indifferent, taught her that the path to true dominion lies not in sheer strength but in subtlety, understanding, and the art of manipulation. To Valerna, language is not just a vehicle for communication, but the blade with which she carves her path through life’s uncertainties, more potent than any sword or weapon a warrior may wield.
She has seen the might of armies, the strength of rulers, but she recognizes them as transient. Empires rise and fall, swords rust, but the echoes of words, ideas, and belief undulate across time, their influence growing even as the hand that uttered them turns to dust. For Valerna, it is in this dance of influence where true power resides. She does not reject the need for brute force but considers it a tool too crude for those seeking to reshape the world.
Valerna’s realization is that most fail because they cling too tightly to a singular notion of power—believing that strength, the ability to crush one's enemies, is the ultimate manifestation of control. But in her wisdom, she knows that such strength is fleeting. What endures are the ripples caused by a single word, a moment of insight, or a well-placed seed of doubt. She imagines herself not as the hand that strikes, but the voice that leads others to strike on her behalf, their actions aligning with her unseen will.
Belief is the cornerstone of Valerna’s philosophy, but not in the simplistic sense of blind faith. True belief requires the willingness to question, to challenge one’s ideals, and to hold them up against the harsh light of reality. Too often, she sees mortals shackled by their convictions, unable to grow because they refuse to entertain doubt. But to Valerna, doubt is the forge in which true wisdom is shaped. Belief that is not tested, that does not adapt, is no belief at all—it is merely a prison of the mind.
As a result, she places little stock in those who cling to dogma without understanding its roots. They are the sheep of the world, led astray by the grandiose speeches of charlatans or the outdated doctrines of dead ideologies. Leaders, she muses, often misunderstand their own power, seeing it as an end rather than a means. And their followers, unwilling to step beyond the boundaries of their indoctrination, enforce a system that is destined to crumble. To Valerna, such leaders reveal not their strength but their fragility, for in their unwavering certainty, they ensure their downfall.
In contrast, Valerna views herself as an observer of the human condition, detached but ever-watchful. She sees strength in the willingness to betray one’s own ideals when necessary. Not out of selfishness or malice, but from the understanding that growth requires evolution. Ideals must bend, shift, and transform to remain relevant. If one clings too rigidly to them, they become brittle and will eventually shatter under the weight of time’s pressures.
Her view of power is that of a flowing river, its course never constant, always shifting in response to the landscape it traverses. The wise are those who recognize when to dam the river and when to let it flow freely. To those who misunderstand this, who try to control every aspect of power, she offers nothing but pity. For she knows that such inanity leads only to stagnation, and in time, all stagnant waters turn foul.
Valerna’s philosophy extends to her view of herself, for she understands that even immortals are subject to the laws of time, not in the decay of the body, but in the erosion of the mind. She has lived countless lives, seen the rise and fall of nations, and through it all, she has remained constant. But she also knows that to survive eternity, one must be willing to evolve, to allow the winds of change to shape them. To resist is to become a relic, trapped in the amber of the past.
Thus, Valerna’s greatest strength lies in her adaptability, her refusal to be bound by the limitations of her past or the expectations of others. She is the spider, weaving webs not just of silk but of influence, knowledge, and belief. Her mind, sharp as any blade, is ever-turning, ever-seeking new ways to exert her will upon the world. She knows that power is not a thing to be seized, but an eddie to be harnessed.
True wisdom is found in the balance between force and persuasion, between action and inaction. She does not shy away from using violence when necessary, but she views it as a last resort, a tool of those who lack the insight to achieve their goals through more subtle means. In the end, she believes that the greatest victories are those won without a single drop of blood being spilled, through the quiet manipulation of events, the shifting of tides unseen by all but the most discerning of eyes.
In the quiet moments, Valerna contemplates the nature of her own existence, the long journey that has brought her here, and the countless paths still left to tread. She understands that her place in the world is not fixed, but ever-changing, and that her true strength lies not in her ability to control the world around her, but in her willingness to adapt, to bend without breaking, and to continue weaving her web in the interminable tapestry of life.
"It's in the nature of things to lash out when struck. Becareful when causing harm for it might day propagate back out to you."
Valerna Jorgenskull
Life and Death
To an immortal being (age), the meaning of these words takes on a very different form. To Valerna, life is an exchange between individuals, not of worldly attainments but immaterialism. To be more precise, it is the pollination of memories and feelings. Given this conclusion, she doesn't rule for her legacy or govern for power alone. Instead, the spider strives to girdle all within her protective web to ease the ephemeral embers that are their existence.
Through this sheltering and the advancement of technology and culture, the denizens might know a better life, no matter how fleeting. She vicariously gleans satisfaction in their smiles, understanding that while perhaps unimportant in the eyes of the cosmos, she had a hand in the construction of a more leisurely journey.
To Valerna, death is something she can't fully understand. She doesn't waste her time constructing ideal paradises waiting beyond the veil. To her, one's expiration is an event of joy mixed with tears that many define as mourning. Nevertheless, having meandered this bitter world, she has come to see the purpose of our cessation. Life is a prison, but death is a release.
All things die not once but thrice.
The first passing occurs when the body dies.
The second comes to fruition once the corporeal form is returned to the earth.
The final and often overlooked layer of death is nuanced. It occurs when no one recalls your name or deeds.
This is why she carries her locket. Inside it is housed the diamond remains of her fallen children. That way, she will never forget their faces and their stories. To Valerna, this implies as long as she holds them dear and basks them within a mother's love, her deceased offspring will never truly die. It's a reminder that everyone goes away in the end. And that her empire is dust unless she can make others' lives a bit easier. But the only thing that doesn't vanish is the void, and the pain that death leaves in its wake. That vacuous void may only be filled not with sorrow. But the flickering memories of better days and moments that are eternally shared.
But how would she describe death?
To Valerna, death is not a violent end but rather a slow dissolution, akin to the gradual fading of a distant sol from the cosmic veil of the welkin. It is an ebbing tide, pulling the individual soul away from the shore of life, only to merge it back into the great ocean of existence. Like the petals of a flower curling back into the earth after one glorious bloom, it is the quiet retreat into the shadows, where breath collapses into silence, leaving only the ghost of memory behind—a vanishing melody of life’s symphony. It is not sudden or harsh but a fading into stillness, the faint snap of life’s thread, unraveling before it is rewoven into the vast loom of eternity.
Death, for her, is no grim specter but an ever-present shadow, familiar as an old companion. Its looming presence does not terrorize but offers a tender reminder of life’s transient nature. It is both a release and a prison, a paradox of freedom in captivity, where life surrenders willingly yet clings to its moments with a fierce grasp. In the dance between breath and silence, Valerna sees death not as a force to resist but as an integral part of existence, a reminder that to live fully is to know, inevitably, the taste of both joy and grief before surrendering to the timeless stillness that follows.
She contemplates the notion that death erases nothing. Instead, it transforms; like a wave that dissolves into the sea, each life is absorbed back into the cosmos, losing individuality yet becoming part of something infinitely larger. The strongest of beings, in all their grandeur, are but fleeting moments in time’s grand, unrelenting flux. For Valerna, this realization holds both sadness and solace—a quiet acceptance that all returns to its origin, an inevitability to be met not with defiance but with understanding.
Even so, woven into death’s inevitability is a kind of bittersweet joy. Valerna sees beauty in the fleeting nature of shared moments, vibrant and ephemeral like fireflies in the night, glowing brightly before they fade. In every loss, there remains a tenderness, a beauty in the transitory nature of existence itself. Death, for her, becomes not merely an end but a culmination, a release that carries the grace of every cherished memory, every tear, every burst of laughter, preserved even as it slips into the void.
Thus, when death touches her life, she does not stand at the precipice with only grief. Instead, she straddles the divide between sorrow and gratitude, holding both with the breadth of her timeless soul. She knows that death does not erase love, nor does it undo the impact of a life lived. It merely transforms, folding the essence of existence back into the universe, where it may bloom again in another form, another time.
In her endless journey, Valerna carries this duality in her heart—a deep reverence for life’s impermanence and a quiet acceptance of death’s role in the cosmic dance. And so, when the time comes to face it once more, she hums a song of both sorrow and joy, for even in death, there is always the whisper of new beginnings, waiting just beyond the horizon.
What does life feel like?
Life is like a vapor, a transient wisp that drifts from every living being—carried upon the unseen currents of time and fate. It moves like mist in the dawn, fragile and delicate, dancing upon the breath of existence. A cloud borne by the winds, it is neither fixed nor bound, but a ceaseless wandering of spirit and flesh, caught in the eddies of time’s endless cycle. There is no permanence, only the drift, the slow unraveling of moments, each one a fleeting note in the symphony of life’s song.
In the heart of life, there is the storm—a tempest of passion and desire that surges through every creature. It is the roaring crescendo of experience, where emotions churn like the waves of a turbulent sea, crashing against the shores of existence. Life swells and recedes, like the tides pulled by unseen moons, its rhythm dictated by the pulse of the universe. Each moment is the eye of the storm, a quiet center in the midst of chaos, where stillness meets motion, and being meets becoming.
Life is the promise of new horizons, a vow spoken in the language of blood and breath. It is the call of adventure that stirs within the heart, urging the soul to venture into the unknown, to uncover the mysteries that lie veiled in shadow. There is an aching beauty in the journey, in the pursuit of what cannot be grasped, for life is not found in the destination but in the motion—the endless search for meaning within the void. It is the thrill of discovery, the joy of a step taken into the darkness, where only possibility dwells.
In every waking moment, life demands to be felt in its entirety. It is not a thing to be observed from a distance, but a force to be embraced, to be lived with every fiber of one's being. Life is the fire that burns within, consuming the mundane, casting aside the trivial, and laying bare the raw, unfiltered essence of existence. It is the touch of the infinite within the finite, the spark of the eternal within the fleeting. To live is to feel—to know joy, sorrow, pain, and ecstasy, all woven into the fabric of experience.
And yet, there comes a time when words fall short, when thoughts become mere shadows of the truth they seek to express. In these moments, silence becomes the most eloquent of all languages. For life, in its purest form, transcends the limitations of speech and thought. It is a presence, a vibration that hums beneath the surface of all things, felt rather than spoken. To be truly alive is to surrender to the silence, to let go of the need for explanation, and simply exist in the fullness of being.
So let the crude matter of words fall away. Let the thoughts that clamor for attention be stilled. In the quiet, in the stillness, life reveals itself in its most profound form—not as something to be understood, but as something to be experienced. It is the pulse that beats beneath the skin, the breath that fills the lungs, the warmth of sunlight upon the face. It is everything and nothing, the infinite and the fleeting, all at once. And in this, life is both a mystery and a gift, to be cherished for as long as it lasts.
Friendship
Throughout Valerna's long pilgrimage, she has encountered countless souls, and no matter how resolutely she tries, she can never keep others at a distance for long. There is always the pull of connection, the hunger for meaning, and the irresistible curiosity of mortal beings that draws them toward her. It is a tender tragedy to witness the passage of time written upon their fragile bodies—time that she herself is immune to. At first, many scoff at her claims of immortality, not believing such tales of one who walks eternally unscathed by the passage of years. She does not fault them for their disbelief, for her saga is an anomaly, not meant to be easily accepted. But eventually, all bear witness to the unchanging truth of her agelessness. Some call her blessed, whispering prayers or invoking ancient rites in hopes that they too might share in such a boon. She never corrects them, for she understands the allure of their fantasies, the romanticized visions of immortal life. Instead, she laughs softly and shares in their fleeting moments.
But it is at the shores of their lives—where life fades into the interminable unknown—that everything shifts. Valerna, ever the constant in their brief journey, watches them slip into the twilight between worlds, where the body weakens, and the soul begins to detach. Death, to her, is a strange thing. She has seen so many pass beyond, each one facing that threshold in their own way. Some rail against its inevitability, fighting for every breath, while others meet the end with calm acceptance, their hearts already soaring beyond. In these moments, when mortality reveals itself in all its raw fragility, Valerna often leans in and tells them a comforting lie—a lie that she, too, will one day cross that river and meet them again on the other side.
But the truth, unspoken and heavy in her heart, is that she can never follow them. Though her love for each lost soul is true, though she carries their memory with her across centuries, Valerna knows she is forever bound to this world. She can never traverse that boundary, never escape the bonds of her endless existence. And when she stands alone on the desolate shores of life, gazing out across the sea of time, she cannot help but wonder: are they still waiting for her? Do they linger in some distant realm, expecting her arrival? But Valerna knows, deep within her, that they will one day realize she is not coming. And though she will never forget them, she wonders if they might, in time, forget her.
"Forgive me," she whispers to the wind. "I can never go there. I can never escape this world. I can never see you again."
Yet, in their final moments, she tells them her most compassionate lie: "This is not goodbye. It's just the start of your journey. We'll meet again." Her voice, soothing like the rustling of leaves, drapes over them like a warm blanket, cradling them as they take their last breath. But she knows the truth—their journey continues without her, and hers without them.
Still, she dreams. Perhaps one day, Valerna will find a way to cross that threshold, to breach the veil between worlds. Perhaps, when that moment comes, she will find them all gathered, waiting for her by the shores of eternity. Or perhaps, by then, they will have moved on, carried away by the currents of time to places even she cannot follow. But until that day, Valerna walks her endless path, bound by the paradox of her immortality—both blessing and curse, filled with moments of connection that shimmer before slipping away like stardust.
Free Will
The burden of choice is embedded into the very fabric of existence. Like leaves in a stream, most drift unknowingly, unaware of the ripples they leave behind. Yet, every decision becomes a stone cast into the lake of time, spreading waves that shape the futures of those around us. Human intelligence, more a gift or perhaps a curse, binds us to the illusion that our choices are singular and isolated. However, every selection births countless realities while extinguishing others—each path a door to one world, but a wall to another.
Existence demands a price, a toll exacted by the very nature of life. Like predators in the wild, humans too must consume to persist, for survival is rooted in destruction. Each breath taken, each morsel consumed, is a silent testimony to the endless cycle of death and rebirth. The truth—though many seek it in ethereal whispers and veiled mysteries—isn't obscured by the cosmos but surrounds us in every moment, a constant reminder of our place in the grand mechanism. We are all bound by an unseen thread, a chain of fate that, while mutable, can never truly be broken.
In quiet moments, we ponder the lives we never lived, the roads we never tread, and the choices left behind. This melancholy is universal, a collective sigh of humanity that spans cultures, times, and places. It is the universe’s cry—a reminder that each choice, each seemingly insignificant decision, shapes not just our lives but obliterates countless others. Timelines, lives, and possibilities fade with every step we take, and yet we march forward, choosing which realities thrive and which dissolve into nothingness. Should we wield such power? It’s a question as old as existence itself.
Choice, that most human of burdens, bears a weight often overlooked. Every decision, large or small, becomes a point of divergence, a junction from which worlds bloom or wither. Yet no matter the road taken, the destination is unchanging—destruction lies at every end. Some roads may wind through joy, others through sorrow, but all eventually lead to the same conclusion. It is a cosmic joke, perhaps, that in creating life with every step, we are also its greatest destroyers. Each choice eradicates a world that could have been, and no matter how careful, the river of time consumes all.
Even for those who believe in immortality, in halting the march of time, there is no true escape. To live eternally would be to see the final collapse of all things—a tragedy more profound than any mortal could endure. Time, after all, is both creator and destroyer, and to sever oneself from its grasp is to invite a fate far worse than oblivion. Every road, no matter how winding, circles back to the same truth: oblivion waits for us all, whether through death or the erasure of potential worlds.
The tragedy lies not in our inability to choose wisely but in the inherent nature of choice itself. We are creators and destroyers in equal measure, casting the dice in a game we neither understand nor control. The very act of existence demands sacrifice—sacrifice of worlds, of timelines, of people who could have been, but never were. Each action we take is a ripple, altering the course of history for better or worse, but always erasing as much as it creates. What are we, then, but architects of a universe in perpetual destruction?
To love or to hate, to build or to break—these choices mean little in the grand scheme, for all paths lead to the same end. The universe does not care for our preferences, for our joys or sorrows. It marches onward, indifferent to our desires, erasing and building in equal measure. Yet, even in this, there is a quiet beauty. The very impermanence of life, the fragility of choice, gives weight to our existence. We are fleeting, but we matter. Each decision we make, though it dooms one reality, births another.
There is solace in the recognition that, while we may never escape the cycle, we are not alone in it. Every being, every soul, moves with us, caught in the same river of time, shaping and reshaping the world. It is this shared experience, this collective weaving of destinies, that binds us together. In the face of obliteration, we find meaning in the small moments, the fleeting joys, the brief connections. They are the threads that hold us, however temporarily, to the fabric of life.
Perhaps, in the end, there is no way to break the chain. No mode of escape from the web of choices we spin. But within this realization lies freedom—the freedom to live, to choose, knowing that our actions matter, even if only for a moment. And perhaps that moment is enough.
Love and Purpose
Throughout her eternal journey, Valerna has gleaned the profound truth that the greatest force in this vast cosmos is family. Though a traveler of realms and times unending, she harbors a quiet envy for those bound by mortal limits, for they alone can know the fleeting sweetness of life, held aloft by the tenderness of kin. Few have the fortune—or perhaps misfortune—to accept the kindness the universe bestows. The cruelest of its mercies, she muses, is the loss of a child, a heartbreak Valerna has faced countless times. Yet, as each generation's remains are consigned to the soil, she finds herself numbed to the sting. It is only when the rituals cease, the quiet solitude settling around her, that grief crashes down like a wave, relentless and unmerciful.
Even one as ageless as she is not immune to sorrow's pull. No matter how fiercely she tries to resist, Valerna is inevitably drawn under its familiar waters, submerged by the weight of memory and loss. Yet, she endures, not out of hope, but because of the moments of calm that dot the tempestuous sea. It is in those tranquil stretches, where the waters are still and skies serene, that Valerna finds the strength to carry on. For though she may wander aimlessly, untethered by time, she understands that she is free to choose her paths, however uncertain the end may be.
For now, she watches over her daughters as they walk their own paths, well aware that their time upon this world will be brief. She knows, as surely as she knows the rhythms of her own breath, that she will one day mourn them as she has so many before. But that time has not yet come, and so she basks in the light of their presence, content for once to sit in the sand and enjoy the fleeting beauty of the present. The storm, she knows, will come. But for now, the skies are clear.
Having walked across the endless expanse of time and space, Valerna has yet to discover life's true meaning. Scholars, priests, and dreamers alike have pressed her for answers, hoping that her long years have bestowed upon her some cosmic understanding. But Valerna, wise as she may be, can offer them little solace. She has long since accepted that no singular answer exists. Life, in all its complexity, is beyond such simple resolutions.
Yet, after many centuries of reflection, Valerna has come to a tentative conclusion. Life is not about the self, nor is it about fleeting pleasures. It is about legacy. Each generation is tasked with paving the way for the next, ensuring that the road ahead is smoother for those who follow. A virtuous society plants trees under whose shade they will never sit, and fills granaries they may never need. An immoral society devours all, leaving nothing for its children. This, Valerna believes, is the simplest measure of a people's worth.
How this relates to the meaning of life is not immediately obvious, but Valerna sees the connection clearly. We, our children, and the world we inhabit are intrinsically linked, and our only purpose is to tend to all three in harmony. Neglect one, and the balance is shattered. To forsake the self is to embrace misery. To neglect one's children is to tarnish the future. To desecrate the earth is to ensure that none shall thrive. Harmony, she believes, is the key to all things.
Some have argued with Valerna's conclusions, insisting that the world is unchanging, that wars, plagues, and suffering are constants throughout time. To them, she offers a simple counter. Perhaps the cycle of suffering cannot be broken, but that does not mean we should not strive to change ourselves. If we, as individuals, can better ourselves, then perhaps we can soften the blow of life's inevitable hardships. After all, it is often humanity's own hands that stoke the fires of war and famine.
In her endless wanderings, Valerna has seen firsthand the destructive potential of unchecked ambition and selfishness. But she has also witnessed the boundless capacity for compassion, love, and sacrifice. If humanity's struggles are eternal, then so too are their triumphs. For every dark moment, there is a glimmer of hope, a fleeting chance to do better. And it is that hope that keeps Valerna moving forward, step by step, across the ages.
"Pacifism is far more deplorable than death, for at least a fetid carcass sustains the insects."
Valerna Jorgenskull
