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Title: Unrepentant Hopes Chapter 4 (Novelization First Draft)
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes:

No paragraph indentations due to Dreamwidth limitations.

Please everyone, take a moment and give it a read and comment! Constructive Criticism only!

Four

Nathanael

I was terrified of the sky. I had only ever seen it through windows and it seemed endless like a sea one could drown in. I would lay in the sun of the window but face away from the outside so I would not have to look up into the sky. Due to this I laid like a cat, stretched out on a green fainting couch in front of the largest window in the cabin, drowsy and comfortable.

A day had passed since I learned that I was going to die. A day had passed since my father, grieved with my anger, chastised me. Anger was no emotion for a prince or a King to display, that was allowing the emotion to control you instead of you controlling it. I was not to show such feelings at my fate.

Today Drefan came home from a nearly yearlong trip north. I did not know why or how, but that he had gone north and came home. Why did he have to come back? It wasn’t that I disliked him, but the house was much more peaceful without him here. I could remember yelling and arguing at all hours of the night. I remembered Thom distraught one evening, coming to me, keeping me from going into the basement. I learned later from overhearing that Drefan had cut himself, deep this time, and had been bleeding in his room until his mother had bound the wounds.

But I shouldn’t think bad things about Drefan. His family was that much happier when he was around, especially Thom. I just didn’t understand why Drefan did the things he did. Why did he cut himself? Wouldn’t that just hurt and nothing more? What did he see in pain? What did he want from it?

I looked through the window at the Sovereign Guard who sat on the front porch steps. There were always at least two guards on duty at the cabin, but both of them stuck close to the front and back doors. Two from Royale, and two from Camar’a. The two from Camar’a were part of the Sovereign Guard, they protected the royal family and could be recognized by their uniforms. A gold, black, and aqua brocade coat over a gold and aqua vest beneath, layered over the aqua tights that slipped into black knee-high leather boots.

My eyes strayed to the kitchen which was the second door to my right. The kitchen knives were all held in a wooden holder. Standing, shaking, my blanket fell to my feet as I looked around our living room at the wooden furniture and coffee table. The walls were covered in small paintings of my ancestors. I walked into the kitchen, the un-shaded windows providing the only light. Taking a large knife from the holder, I curiously stared at it, and then my forearm.

Laying it against the skin of my lower left arm I chewed on my lip letting it slice. All thought left my body; I gasped a whine also escaping my lips, finding at that moment that I drew pleasure from pain. I found out later that my eyes would be blood-red as they are every time I experience pain. I could see nothing but a haze of red, but I could hear.

A knock at the front door.

Fumbling, the kitchen knife slid through my blood-soaked fingers to clatter to the kitchen floor. Blood sprayed from the blade over the tile as my eyes came into focus, to stare at what I had done. Then in slow motion, my eyes moved from the blade to the bubbling red froth upon my arm. It began to flow thick like syrup, rolling off my pale flesh to drop to the floor below.

Drip…Drip…Drip….

( More writing behind the Cut )

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Imminence - Desert Place

Title: Unrepentant Hopes Chapter 3 (Novelization First Draft)
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes:

No paragraph indentations due to Dreamwidth limitations.

Please everyone, take a moment and give it a read and comment! Constructive Criticism only!

Three

Drefan

I crumpled against the wall of the spiral staircase. Thank the Gods I was alone while I wheezed, a hand grasping at my tunic, right over my breast bone. The tightness in my chest was crippling as I sank onto the stone step. I couldn’t even manage the stairs without my lungs giving out on me? Was this from the dredge? From the opium? I had been gone for a little over a year and my time on the mat was the majority of those hours. I hung my head between my knees, coughing. I just needed time...

No one could see me like this. But if this was what would happen when I climbed a set of damned stairs… This body was starting to fail me, wasn’t it? But that was no one’s fault but my own. I wasn’t dying...was I? The door overhead opened and I surged to my feet. Hacking another cough I stuffed my hands back into my pockets. Taking on that uncaring demeanor that I was known for. No one was allowed to know how bad off I was. No one.

I acknowledged the servant that passed by with a quick bow of my head, the respectful greeting was given regardless of rank. This also afforded me the chance to keep my face concealed so any pain that was written on my features would not be seen. Coming to a stop at the higher exit to the stairs, I took in a deep whistling breath before stepping into another long hallway. Black Guards blended into the dark stone walls in measured intervals on both sides.

Ignoring everything but why I was even in this hallway, I knocked on the door to my brother’s bed-chamber. There was the scratch of a wooden chair on the floor before the door was opened and green eyes peered out at me. Seeing me for who I was, Thom fully opened the door with a smile and invited me in. But as soon as that door closed I was backed up against it and arms encircled my middle. I puffed out a startled breath, stiffening at first, not expecting Thom to immediately embrace me.

“Thom,” I managed before I was coughing again.

“You sound awful,” Thom began and his green eyes widened, “You sound as bad as Nate sounds!”

Hands pressed against my chest to hold me where I was and he leans his ear against me. There was no way to hide the wheezing and the tightness in my chest. Thom looked up at me with dawning horror in his eyes while his freckled cheeks lost their color.

“We have to talk to a healer!”

“No,” I grasped one of my brother’s hands in mine, “I don’t need any of this to get back to father. You know how much he hates weakness.”

“But-,” sorrow clouded those bright green eyes, “What if you die?!”

“It’s not that bad,” I lied as I needed time to figure out what I could do if it was as bad as that.

“How can you be so sure? You were away for months, smoking that stuff for so long. Who knows what it did to you! Dref, you can’t just brush me off like this. I saw you half-dead in the back of that cart. I won’t ever forget seeing that.”

“He has a point.”

I grabbed at the hands that held me to that door. If I was going to say anything else it was not going to be so easily heard by the Black Guards in the hallway. Thom released me now and I made for the bed. Sweeping a look at my brother’s room, it hardly looked lived in. The desk was the only spot that looked used, with stacked books on Royalian laws and discourse on top of various pieces of paper. So Thom was spending that much more time at the cabin, was he sleeping there too?

I settled on the edge of the bed, waiting for my brother to sit beside me.

“Nath’s gotten worse, hasn’t he?” Pivoting myself, our knees just touched.

Thom gave me a look at the change in conversation, but his shoulders let go and he crumbled beside me, “Yes…”

Shit.

Thom shakes his head hard and he takes in a deep breath, “I’m not stupid, I know you won't tell me why you left and that’s fine, but I am going to demand to know what’s wrong with you!”

I couldn’t look him in the eyes, I never could. I had promised when I first saw him in that cradle that I would protect him from whatever Robert threw at the both of us. I took my victories from the way that Thom could still smile like nothing in the world was wrong and how his eyes still lit up like rays of sunshine. I could not have failed him that badly then or so I told myself.

But I should never have gone into the deserts without him. I had promised to protect him and for the first time in my life, I had left him unprotected, for months. I had to hold myself back from asking if there was anything wrong with him. But father would have made Thom forget any hurtful words or grasping hands. Thom was his heir. The only way to know if anything untoward had happened was to demand to see any marks or new scars on him and such an order would come across as insane and invasive. So I stewed and I concentrated on what had Thom worried about in this present moment. My health, my well-being. Neither my father nor I deserved him.

( Continue Reading Chapter Three Here... )

Current Music: Five Finger Death Punch - I Refuse

Title: Dead end wishes [Book 1]
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes:

The abuser is dead.
But what does this mean for the family?
What does this mean for the Empire that he had ruled?
and why, oh why was everyone acting as if Robert had been a good man?

-

The headstone was simple, as the far more embellished one, fit for the King that Robert had been, was in the Royalian royal graveyard.

Thom held me in his arms, and I looked up at him, at his normally bright green eyes, now subdued. Even in his exhaustion and the pain of losing his father, Thom still tried to smile for me. Always. He was always strong for me.
“It will be alright Nate,” Thom whispered and it was not that he lied, for he believed what he said, but I could hear his sorrow. Thom had always been an optimist; he tried his hardest to always smile, so he could bring out the joy of others, too. My smiles are for you, Thom. It’s because of you that I smile still, years later. Even when I realize how alone I am now, your memories remain. You were always smiling, always tender, and you always called me that. Nate.

Thom pressed a kiss to my brow, looking back to the gravestone beneath the willow-tree. Prince Drefan turned away from both his family and my own, his hands clenched in fists by his sides. One of his arm’s swept out, summoning a portal of darkness right there, in front of my parents not caring about the consequences. He knew this was contested grounds, and that the Royalians were not to invoke the darkness in this meadow or take the chance of breaking the treaty between our two Empires. My father, King Peter made a move to angrily grab the Royalian Prince but missed. The sudden summoning of the Void startled the Camarian Queen, my mother, who stumbled back and away. In attempts to calm my father, my parent’s lover, Sir A’trious settled a hand on my father’s shoulder. But the venomous words were already out for all to hear, “Traitarous Warlock!”

It mattered little though, Drefan was already gone and the darkness was collapsing in on itself and dispersing. My eyes darted upward to my beloved and all I saw was hurt. Why did Drefan act this way?? Robert’s royal concubine and Drefan’s mother-Aidna wrapped her arms around us both as Thom was wracked with sobs. Do you not realize what you’re doing by pushing him away Drefan? By making Thom forget, he doesn’t understand what is going on any better than I do! You are going to be all alone…

~~~
“Tell Thom what your Father has been doing, now; show him the scars as proof. He will understand better, and then he won’t judge you Drefan!”

“If I did that he would change, Thom’s dislike of me would turn into hate for our father. I do not want him to have to remember what that son-of-a-bitch has been doing to us, do you not understand that?! He should not have to endure the nightmares I do-of the things that bastard has put us through! I’d rather Thom come to hate me if it leaves his ignorance intact. Regardless of what it costs me, he’s worth it. I promised him.”
~~~

I know that means I’m not allowed to tell him either…
But what else can I do?

I’m nine.
I’m sorry Drefan. I’m sorry Thom.
I wish I was older.

I wish I could understand.
I wish… I wish I could do more than this.
But I don’t know-how.

Current Mood: blah

“You will do this, Dryden if you love us.”

Protect the Prince. Protect our son.

But that meant the Commandant of the Sovereign Guard would be turning his back on protecting them.
His King and his Queen. The loves of his life.

–

Dryden Atrious had loved his Sovereign (King) for half a decade when his adoptive son asks him why he takes Peter off and away at night. Away from his wife, the Queen, who often ends those nights with her pre-pubescent son wrapped in her arms in efforts to ward off the loneliness.

Elaina never showed an ounce of malice or jealousy. Atrious had wished to show his Queen the same love that he felt for his King but he knew politically, it would just cause more problems than offer up any solutions. Graciously has Elaina said time and time again that she does not mind. It has never done anything to lessen his guilt.

To the mind of a child, matters of the heart were simple. If Sir Atrious was Nathanael’s father too, as his father, Peter had decided that Atrious could be considered, then why did not all three of his parents love one-another? Why must his mother be lonely? It just was not right!

–

The three of them being together does not change the central plot points, including the deaths of all three at Drefan’s hands. But it does allow Elaina to be happy. Why did she have to remain alone while Peter loved another?

Elaina is already treated poorly by the Arch-Deacon, and even though she knows being divorced by the King would see her be unable to face the court, she begs for Peter to leave her and take another wife. She cannot have another child, Nathanael a miracle, and Peter must have an heir that is not ill and dying. But Peter is a weak man, and he knows it. He depends on her for gods’ near everything.

Yet, I have come to realize that this was not about her strength of character, but a token tragedy of a woman loving someone who could not love her back the way she loved him. Peter is gay but he is King, and he is easily manipulated. Elaina marries him, her childhood friend, to give him an heir and someone strong to lean upon for support. But screw that trope that a Queen, a powerful woman is stronger alone and that as a woman, she must sacrifice her happiness for the greater good.

That she must graciously hide her bitterness and spend countless nights alone.

Peter, Atrious, and Elaina may only have 2 years together before they meet their end, but let it be two years not of loneliness.

Current Mood: artistic
Current Music: Queen of Peace - Florence & the Machine

As Mankind is bound to Time,

The Ellaern are bound to Fate.

So the descendants of the Two,

Will be fettered to them both.

~ The Vita.S (Book of Sacred Life)

Each individual Ellearn has a unique and incommensurable Destiny that determines their proper course in life. Having a Destiny meant that the Ellearn were bound to Fate, which decided one’s allotted years, and the extent of one’s lifespan. As with Destiny complete, the Ellearn begins to shimmer and finally, peacefully, passes on.

"Live following your Destiny, that essential nature deep within that is the will of Fate and your endpoint. Once yours or others decrees have been finished, rejoice as the life journey comes to a close."

To understand and act upon one’s Fate is the ultimate goal of an Ellearn’s life. Fate directs the individual towards Destiny and Ellearn philosophy fills them with the joy of accomplishing what they were meant to accomplish. Each individual Destiny cherished and cultivated to conform to the decree of one’s personal Destiny preserves each person’s authentic singularity (and individuality.) “For nothing is as good as bringing about what has been decreed by the Divine, for what Fate has decreed is called nature and nothing is as good as realizing one’s Destiny and seeing it through.”

To love one’s Fate is to accept it and relish in it, yet this outlook should not be mistaken for fatalism. To the Ellearn it is very important to reject fatalism. There should be a joyous acceptance of the singular Fate that makes each Ellearn a unique individual. This joy is born from the fact that there is wiggle room within the bounds of Fate, as Fate is open to the full scope of people’s strategy and ingenuity in maneuvering through one's Fated span.

There should be no resignation in the heart of an Ellearn, only a sense of welcomed certainly for what is to come. One should actively engage in the future, not just resign yourself to what is to come. The possibility of knowing Fate meant that one should bring it to fruition through active participation and effort, cultivating one's Fated span.

The goal of such a view was to force the Ellearn to focus on the important things they could control such as cultivating their own and their families destinies whilst avoiding, thinking upon those things they could not control. These uncontrollable things would be wealth, life-span and societal position (class) as these are dictated by others so they should not be concerned with. This philosophy was a wish to change the Ellearn people’s views of what is and is not important, and to redirect people’s energy and efforts from those external concerns to the important internal concerns (family and the self.)

Those who resent their Fate cannot change it, they will simply not learn from their experiences, and will only have a hardening heart. "To attempt to destroy the natural outcome of one or another’s fate will end in disastrous results, and those who do not follow their destinies distort their heart and ruin many lives."

Fate is a duty; it is purpose and inevitability of the change in the Universe. "We may regard the present state of the Universe as the effect of its past and the cause of its future." All Destinies are linked through patterns in the stars and tied then to astrology. Fate is seen as a decree by the Gods, giving oneself an opportunity to tie themselves through their Destiny to the Destiny of the world itself.

What is Destined is under the control of Fate and there are no ethical calculations involved. “As our Destiny is out of our hands, an Ellearn should never be judged upon his Fate.”

Current Mood: artistic
Current Music: Flechette x I Am Un Chien - Come Back (Feat. JRF)

Nathanael has a background of the acceptance of fate as the Ellearn all have destinies. In this way, he is no more special than the rest of his ancestors and for this reason, the idea of accepting his own demise is normalcy. Drefan, who was his biggest influence as a child, is human and comes from a background that says, ‘Fuck Fate’ (though this would change in Drefan’s later life,) and this duality leaves Nath pretty confused. With his masochism being why Nathanael is called a monster by his father in a conversation the child eavesdropped on Nathanael clings to his own fatalistic and self-hating tendencies in his resignation of what is to come. ‘I deserve this. I’m just a monster; perhaps through this fate, I will be redeemed.’ Martyrdom.

However, this outlook is actually incorrect even to the Ellearn, this fate bound species do not believe in simply laying back and allowing fate to do what it will. Ellearn philosophy states that you work with fate, that you strive to fulfill your destiny, but in a manner that is correct to yourself. This allows fulfillment of not only the Gods plans but your own within that fated framework.

This comes to be understood by Nathanael, at last, toward the end of his seventeenth year. The Prince begins to understand that yes, there is give and take within his fate. He must defeat Drefan, yes, that is his destiny, but Reinn wants him to kill Drefan. Yet, destiny only says 'Defeat’ so Nathanael can choose to save Drefan instead. His acceptance of his fate morphs in and of itself alongside his own character growth. He evolves, at first he is a child who resigns himself to terrible comings because he believes he has no right to stop what is coming. Nath becomes a young person who says, 'I will play your game, but I will play it by my rules. Even if you win, I will have no regrets that I pushed, and I strived and I did everything in my power to make this fate, right.’

Nathanael would go on to play to his own strengths, unwilling to give up his scruples to fulfill destiny. He knows that destiny must be completed, so he says, 'Even if I go about this a bit unorthodox, fate will be fulfilled.’ So the adolescent takes oaths before the Gods to protect him. An oath of Non-violence and Peace to the God of Death so he will not add to those entering Death’s Halls. Alongside this, he takes a vow of Poverty before the Goddess of Compassion swearing to take no material gain and to give to others all that he receives. The Gods grant him their divine protection and even with no armor, arrows do not bite and weapons break upon impact with his skin.

As a Death Dweller, he comes to accept his death not only fatalistically, but as an abstract concept. Meditating on mortality, the mysteries of death and dying and his anxieties and fear of his own death slowly evaporate. His act of throwing himself before his comrades to take incoming blows is no longer only an act of fatalism but out of an understanding that it is not yet their time to die. As Nathanael embraces the concepts of death and dying he will allow himself to die without a fight at his allotted time.

But when he falls in a battle that once during book two, he stands before the God of Death and holds his ground. He holds a respectful tone but asks to be allowed back not for himself, but for his Guardians, his friends, and the Kingdom he will rule. Nathanael promises that when fate will take him, he will come, no matter what. Sjel’Nnharma who was once mortal says nothing but bows to the adolescent, sending him back to his companions as the Prophet of Death. Nath has fully accepted his impending death and been given additional lives until that day. Able to die and rise again multiple times so that he will live until fate demands his end.

The Prince regains the throne, and time passes. He would become the parent to three. With the mind of a parent now, Nathanael becomes angry at the thought of his final death as he is now leaving his young children behind. For the first time since the opening chapter of book one Nathanael shows his anger at his fate. But here his anger, in the few months before his final death, is not for his sake, no, but for his children. It is for his kingdom that lies, still, in ruins and needs a King.

But he made a promise and he will keep it. He won’t fight his fate, yet that anger remains. As the twenty-one-year-old gasps for breath with fluid-filled lungs, dying in his love’s arms, both he and his lover cry bitter tears. He realizes, almost blind from the tuberculous that he is allowed, after all those years of adherence to a script that would end with his drawn out and painful death by disease, to think that, 'You know what? I didn’t actually deserve this at all…’

and he dies.

Current Mood: artistic
Current Music: Iverson - Metline Blues

Title: Happiness
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings:

The short explanation: The Goddess of Love and Loyalty promised to ‘shift’ Nathanael so that they could have children.
Normally male, Nathanael is female here.

Main Character/s: Nathanaael Peter Quele Royale, Damion Ante, Not yet born Joscelin Quele Ante
Plot: Nathanael wishes for Damion to know that this child inside is his, blood or not.
Location: Royal Castle, Capital of illander.

-

The baby moved.

With a gleeful smile, Nathanael took up Damion’s hand and settled it against their abdomen. The Vampire was used to Nathanael requiring physical affection and relaxed his digits against the nightdress. The Sovereign waited for the baby to jump once again.

When the baby would move a second time it caused the Assassin to jump, vampire starting at the movement beneath the layers of cloth and skin. Sight was not required for this and the smile upon the blind man’s face was exactly what Nathanael had hoped for. Webbing fragile fingers through Damion’s to press them harder against that swelling curve, Nathanael tilts their head and begins to speak.

“He is yours, Damion. Blood or none, this will be your son.”

So much death, too much death in Damion’s Un-life and his Life before that, and Nathanael wanted more than anything, now that the throne had been secured, to give Damion life. A life. A precious bundle that would still be there when the Consumption finally took the Sovereign to the grave.

“I have no idea how to raise a child Nathanael.”

A bitter laugh, cut short by fear of it turning into wracking coughs and bloodied lips. “Do you think I have any idea?!”

The Vampire raises pale knuckles to his lips, “Yes, because you have always wanted children… Still, all one can hope is he won’t hate me for having to learn as he grows.”

“I don’t think our child could ever hate you, Damion.”

“Gods I hope not. Will it call me Father do you think? It is an odd calling on me, in my mind.”

“You will get used to it. I know you will.”

“In time perhaps. Move your limbs, I want to hear both of your heartbeats.”

Nathanael shifted so they were the only one on the settee, laying comfortably as Damion knelt by his side, laying his head of dark blonde curls against Nathan’s abdomen. Gently pressing his ear against the cloth, the Vampire closed unseeing brown eyes. Relaxing into the rhythm of the two heart-beats against his ear. Like nothing, he had ever heard before…

Current Mood: drained
Current Music: Jonathon Davis - Happiness

I have had prior novel events written for the Camarian Royal family for years as Camara has been far easier for me to flesh out. Well now it's time to suck it up and do the Royalian Royal family. So I started this, however, this post only goes to 3968 so it is part 1 of 3. 3992 is the opening year of my novels and where this well eventually end. This ends up being way more detailed then Nath's family...

This is Drefan’s family history.

---

Emperor Taj Royale was Drefan’s Great Grandfather.

Empress Consort Galina Royale was Drefan’s Great Grandmother.

Prince of Second Rank Talkran Royale is Drefan’s Great Uncle.

Prince of the Second Rank Ademar Royale was Drefan’s Great Uncle.

Emperor Stanislas Royale was Drefan’s Grandfather

Empress Consort Maral Royale was Drefan’s Grandmother.

Emperor Robert Royale is Drefan & Thom’s Father.

Princess of the First Rank Cermaka Royale was Drefan and Thom’s Aunt.

3189-3357 The Age of Spirits:

3315 – Talkran Royale is born to Emperor Taj as a Prince of the Second Rank, the child of an Imperial Concubine, with little chance at the throne.

3319 – Ademar Royale is born to Emperor Taj as a Prince of the Second Rank, the child of an Imperial Concubine, with little chance at the throne.

3324 – Stanislas Royale is born to Emperor Taj and Empress Consort Galina as Heir Son to the Royale throne, garnering an instant dislike by his two elder, but un-inheritable, brothers.

3332 – It has been 8 years of Talkran and Ademar mistreating their brother, from denying him food to purposefully leaving him in the cold. His royal parents have yet to notice this behavior, too busy ruling.

3334 – A ten year old Stanislas, realizing that he must largely fend for himself against his brothers begins to have some of the servants teach him a much less honorable form of hand to hand combat then the swords play he is learning from the Palace’s Black Guards.

3336 – After another four years of abuse that has escalated to various attempts at murder of the Heir Son Stanislas, Talkran allows Ademar, Prince of the Second Rank, and his younger sibling to take the fall for their joint deeds. Talkran watches from the royal booth as his brother is executed for treason.

3340 – Talkran attempts to discredit his brother Stanislas who appears to have not inherited the Imperial line of necromantic arts. This does concern the provinces, whose people worried that the Heir was not as bound to the Divine of Darkness, Honor and Undead as Talkran is. Defamed by this Stanislas must prove himself to the people and peerage.

3341 – The grave of Prince Ademar, which was instated in the royal cemetery, is found to have been robbed, and a rash of city graves have been dug up.

3342 – Stanislas has taken it upon himself to finish his training with the Imperial Black Guards and has successfully passed the Exams of Merit that both officials and ministers must excel at to become peerage. He is the first Emperor to have done so.

Summer of 3343 – The first flesh sewn body is seen following Prince Talkran in the bowels of the Imperial Palace. Rumors begin to circulate through the palace that one of the dead look like the middle prince, and Talkran becomes known as a 'Fleshweaver.'

Winter of 3343 – Emperor Taj wishing to retire at 53, seats his heir in the Black Throne where Stanislas immediately forms the ‘Devotion’ with the Royalian people, and this act ceases talk that the Heir is not bound with Lord Nanqa. Forming the Devotion is a requirement to rule the Imperial Royalian Empire and to form this mental connection with every Royalian with an embedded crystal, the heir must be of the Fallen Arch-Angel Taedras’s blood. Without this bond, consolidating power of the Empire is near impossible.

3344 – Emperor Stanislas marries a Barazon woman of peerage, Maral.

3^rd month of 3347 – Prince Talkran finalizes his plans, and gains the power to transform himself into a lich. He does not, however, let it be known he is now undead, and uses illusion spells to keep his human or living appearance.

5^th month of 3347 – No longer afraid of any or all repercussions, Talkran murders his father once-Emperor Taj in cold blood, before vanishing the body. His laboratory and prison in the lower levels are ripped apart in efforts to find the Emperor's remains, but they cannot be found. Emperor Stanislas enraged in grief for his father and the possible desecration of the Prior Emperor’s corpse heads a military manhunt for his elder brother.

6^th month of 3347 – Talkran is at last apprehended, and according to Palace records, found guilty of murder, treason, and grave robbing. Emperor Stanislas would attempt, and fail to execute Talkran by the following methods: bathing him in acid, burning him at the stake, and finally dismembering him. The lich was known to crow with laughter during his death, and return from the dead-flesh rebound and laughing once again within weeks. It takes the threat of the Fallen Arch Angel, Taedras to banish the lich from Royale for good.

12^th month of 3347 – The royal couple have their first child Daegal Royale, and with each Imperial first child it is the ‘Imperial Sacrifice.’ He is named shortly before the newborn’s spirit is returned to the Amaranthine River. This is done by each Emperor in, “Royal subordination of the Heart in servitude to the Royalian People and the Lord of Darkness, Nanqa.” A physical and painful display of the royal family’s loyalty, duty and honor to a people who would return said loyalty by offering their lives and undeaths in battle for the Empire.

3348 – Emperor Stanislas makes the decision to have no concubines, which is abnormal for the reigning Emperor. He does this however to ascertain all of his children will be with his Empress and hopefully lessen the possibility of violent infighting between his children due to his own awful childhood with his half-brothers.

3351 – Robert Royale is born to Empress Consort Maral, as Heir Son to the Royale throne.

3353 – Emperor Stanislas Royale heads a contingent of Black Guard in quelling rebellion among the Vivassians swiftly.

3355 – Cermaka Royale, the Imperial couple’s only daughter and Princess of the First Rank is born. Empress Maral was a distant mother figure, finding it difficult to show any emotion towards her children due to her inflexible attitude toward her royal position. This stifled maternal affections, and it was only her daughter that she genuinely enjoyed.

3357 – Emperor Stanislas takes Imperial Black Guard forces into the south-eastern province of Hlukhiv to assist in pushing back Danu raiders from beyond the southern mountains that were pillaging Eolin towns. So impressed is he with the military excellence of the Black Guard that he requests that the Commander of the Black Guard personally instruct the heir when Robert is of age to live among them at the Citadel.

-------------

3357-3368 The Age of Lilies:

7^th month of 3359 – Princess Cermaka dies of Pneumonia at 4 years of age devastating her parents and prompting the Empress to publicly retire to her family’s estates in the province of DormuKai. She is only seen after this during the yearly Royal bloodletting ritual for good harvests. Robert is only 8 when he loses his beloved sister and he is hidden from the public by his father for his breakdown. He learns early that such shows of emotion are unseemly among royalty as he is now left alone with only his Father at the Castle.

10^th month of 3359 – The Dirian War begins for the Holy Camarian Empire with the northern desert lands. For the first time a treaty for peace is written between the two Empires who have off and on warred for three millennia. Emperor Stanislas is deep in personal grief and agrees to the twenty-five year terms headed by crowned Sovereign Joscelin I of Camara.

3360 – Stanislas refuses his Ministers once again on the matter of taking concubines and will not divorce his wife who he understands wishes to have no more children. The Emperor remains alone, not bothering his wife’s privacy. The Royalian common admires him for remaining faithful to his wife regardless. Unfortunately, the loss of his daughter and his wife’s withdrawal makes the Emperor that much colder, distant and strict to his heir and son Robert.

3361 – Robert has been set to a strict regimen of lessons pertaining to the eventual taking of the Merit Exams since his sister’s death. This has been in effort to curb the child’s sullenness and fickle temper that has reared its head since Prince Cermaka’s death. ‘Where sadness is unacceptable there only remains fury as an emotional response to loss.’

3363 – At twelve Robert has not inherited the Royale line’s necromantic powers and Stanislas relocates his heir to the Black Guard citadel where Robert will live among those who have returned as Undead to serve the Empire. The Undead Black Guards will drill him on The Veziput Code, swordsmanship and military discipline alongside his Imperial history and Nanqaian theology.

Early 3368 – The Heir Apparent Robert Royale takes the Merit Exams during his 16^th year and excels. His father Emperor Stanislas calls him back to the Imperial Palace at this time to begin to teach him how to run the Empire. The Prince has a reputation among the people as being a studious, dutiful, well composed royal who takes his responsibilities to the Empire as seriously as his Father does.

Mid 3368 – Emperor Stanislas holds a formal ball at the Imperial Palace where the eldest unmarried daughter of each Minister in the main 6 provinces will be presented to the heir. He would dance with each one of them and spend time speaking to them that night before making his decision on which he will court. Lady Lucina of the province of DormuKai, a fellow Barazon is chosen by Heir Prince Robert Royale. A softer side of the royal is seen when he is with her, however per noble tradition they will not wed or be intimate until Robert ascends the throne.

Late 3368 – Emperor Stanislas imparts an important piece of wisdom to his son in regards to the Royalian throne, “To be an Emperor is to be an actor. Never show weakness or else someone stronger will try to take everything from you. They will deem you unfit to rule the Empire, and if you do make that mistake, use the Devotion to undo your indiscretion. The people will know no better…”

(The Devotion or ‘The Kiss of God’ is a mental connection that has kept the people safe from Camarian magics that could have potentially brain washed them. It helped the people see through illusions, glamours, charms and other such tricks. It could also be used by Emperors for less than noble reasons. It could be used to make subjects forget any and all transgressions in the fixing of memories and could also be quite suggestive or manipulative of choices made.)

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Nothing More - Here's to the Heartache

This rambling stemmed from a discussion on how readers often sympathize with Villains who have either a sad or traumatic past or a past where they could have chosen to be good men even though they ended up being bad ones.

Of course, Snape was a center piece to other peoples discussion of this topic so I mention him at the end.

-
Preface:

I’m writing my novels from two points of view, that of the characters considered the protagonist and antagonist, chronicling the protagonist’s short, gravely ill, life. Nathanael is altruistic, compassionate and forgiving. Drefan is self-destructive, rageful and biting.

...

Drefan my antagonist has a (to put it very lightly) shitty life and goes through hell before his mind snaps and he uses the necromantic powers he has inherited as well as the powers of his God to take revenge on the world :/ I do this because I want to know his story, where he was and what brought him to today. I want him to rage at his life and its unfairness, to curse the Gods and himself. Yet Drefan never once asks for sympathy because he sees it as pity and he’s too strong for that.

He refuses to allow himself to feel shame for what he has done after he regains himself and sees that his undead have butchered millions. He realizes if he starts on himself with guilt and shame that he will likely lose his mind again. He won’t ask for forgiveness because he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Drefan surrounds himself, on purpose, with those who remind him of his sins so he won’t forget because there are those who do forgive him regardless of his crimes.

I don’t really want to tell his story as a means of garnering sympathy for him, it would honestly piss him off I did so. Redemption isn’t something he is asking for, he hates that it is Nathanael’s forgiveness which is the last piece that finishes rebuilding his mind.(While this was happening others were piecing his mind back together so this ‘healing’’ does not actually depend as deeply on the boy’s forgiveness as Drefan is lead to believe and the reader knows this.)

He calls Nath weak and foolish for the forgiveness, walking out on the teen almost immediately afterward although Nathanael forgiving Drefan was the focus of the protagonist’s journey. Drefan remains angry and bitter, filled with rage at himself and the world and isolates himself in his own personal hell once he realizes what he has done. But he won’t ever say he is sorry because what difference would that make? Honestly? It won’t bring back the dead.

By the definition of Redemption by Webster I never give him that. It takes him until he’s 50 years old, 20 years post novels to let go of the past and the abuse that saw his mind break to pieces. Even then, stepping out of the palace confronts Drefan with what he has done when he sees the black roses that grow in the cracks of the cobblestone streets. Each of those black roses is a person he had a hand in killing, and the Capitol city is filled with them.

Redemption is atonement for guilt, to atone for faults or mistakes. What the hell could you possibly do to make up for the deaths of over 5,585,627 of your own people? Or of over 7,383,635 people worldwide? Nothing.

~~If anything it pisses off Drefan and confounds him when anyone forgives him for the Scourge War. He tends to think their simpletons for it (like wtf?)…heh~~

I don’t think a villain needs to redeemed, I don’t think a character’s past is only told for the sake of sympathy. I want to better understand each character, their motivations, and their pain. But understanding does not have to equal forgiveness.

On the topic of Snape, I could understand his past and still see his later choices as wrong ones. I could find him an intriguing character, feel sad for when he died yet still wish he had been a better man while knowing that he was not. Snape was a bitter and at times vile man whose choices made him who he was. The redemption of villains does not make them interesting characters in and of itself. Some characters, as was previously mentioned, may forgive the villain and many others won’t, much like the readers.

That to me is the most realistic outcome.

(And I know those numbers were like really fucking specific, I have done the math for war causalities and those were what I came up with. He killed over 50% of his own people and over 30% of the people of the opposing Empire. Dude done fucked up.)

-

Finally after 15 years of working on these two books (jesu?!) I have working titles!!

Book 1: Unrepentant Hopes

Book 2: Unrepentant Dreams

YAAAAAY

Current Mood: creative
Current Music: Highly Suspect - My Name Is Human

Days/Months/Seasons

-

On Average:
Cor'Terrae Has -

33 Hours in a Day
21 Days in a Month.
253 Days in a Year.
12 Months in a Year.

12 months = 21 days for 11 months, with 1 day added to the month of the Winter Solstice.
7 days a week (Which makes 3 weeks in a month.)
These numbers are explained in the Cosmology.

The Main Continent (The Known World) is in the southern hemisphere, with the deserts of the north-lands (Diria and Zene) at the equator. So the seasons and months correspond to a southern climate (As in Our Australia/South America/Africa.) Consequently, Summer is at the beginning of the year and Winter is in the middle of the year.

Yearly Calender

-

The separate Empire’s would have their own respective calendars, however, the Holy Camarian Empire is the center of the stories so the dates will follow the Camarian calendar.

The Summer Solstice and the First Day of Summer is Cynteya 21st.

Gorfanaur (Of Dry Hopes - The Celebration of The Summer Solstice and the New Year in Camara)

Gwanlote 21st is also the last day of the previous year, known as the ‘Longest Day’, and is an auspicious holiday devoted to new beginnings. In the cities, a fair takes place that celebrates the Goddess of Music, Rina Linn and the God of the Sun Nau'ar. Dancing is had and music is played in the streets and good will is a plenty in the cities.

In the towns and villages, however, so dependent on the leniency of the God of the Sun for their crops, there is little celebration and much veneration. The God of the Sun and Fire is known to as the God of Power and it is in his nature to be selfish and vain. If dances or prayers are given up they are made to Nau'ar only as these communities offer ritual sacrifices of some of healthiest cattle and sheep to appease him.

1st Month - Meheleire (Midsummer) Cynteya (Beginning of Summer)
2nd Month - Zwngahaf (The End of Summer)
3rd Month - Haeeren (Harvest, Named after Goddess of Nature)
Autumnal Equinox - Zwngahaf 21st
4th Month - Nn'harsal (Autumn, Named after God of Death/Souls)
5th Month - Hrethsos (Fierce Winds)
6th Month - Pyrmogae (Of Dusk, Loss of the Sun)
Winter Solstice - Pyrmogae 21st
8th Month - Gaesneira (Snow and Ice)
9th Month - Endelrhew (Last Frost)
10th Month - Neivorlyng (Spring Start)
Spring Equinox - Neivorlyng 1st of 2nd
11th Month - Matarshae (Rains, Named after the God of Water)
11th Month - Gwanlote (Blossoms Blooming)
12th Month - Cynteya (Beginning of Summer)
Summer Solstice - Cynteya 21st

The Winter Solstice is on Pyrmogae 21st.

Nostrildom (Of Night Stars - The Celebration of Midwinter in Camara)

The week of Pyrmogae 14th to 21st is celebrated as Midwinter by the Holy Camarian Empire with the 21st being the Longest Night, where The God of Light won over the God of Darkness. This is of religious importance to the day that follows, the ill-received 22nd. One candle is lit on the 14th in all homes that celebrate, and this pattern is continued until the 21st. On the Longest Night, there will be seven candles to protect the inhabitants of the home from the darkness and evil that will be most powerful that night and the following day.

The Goddess of Stars Clerics and Holy warriors all keep vigil from dusk to dawn each night of this week, kneeling before Sila Vor’s statue. Prostate they remain, with their heads to the floor upon cobblestone of her temple. There is a fast during these hours for these men and women who protect.

On the final night, the Longest Night of the 21st in the Imperial Castle the most beautiful Elven woman in the city is chosen to represent the Goddess of the Stars and Elves. Her face is hidden by a veil as the Goddess’s beauty is so, that no mortal can see it and survive. Wrapped in silks and lace, this Elven maiden plays her part and is nearly captured by the God of Darkness Nanqa, a man painted as an ebony demon. He dances around her, seducing her away with whispered promises and evil intent from the half angel who shines, representing the God of Light, Reinn Anon. This half angel who is the husband of Sila Vor protects the maiden from the Dark God Nanqa, capturing the loathsome God and collaring the demon, signifying that life is preserved and protected for another year.

Through the castle into the city streets the three parade, Reinn Anon protecting his beloved, shielding her and marching the imprisoned Nanqa to the Grand cathedral where Nanqa will be locked inside a man-sized cage. Cloth of darkest and thickest black will be thrown over the demon to re-enact the God of Darkness being vanquished and banished far out into the void where he could never return. The King or Queen would then lead prayers in thanks to the King and Queen of Heaven (Reinn Anon and Sila Vor) upon the balcony of the Imperial Castle and the evening will end with dancing and merriment.

As a Side Note: The celebration has been calmed by the Royal Family in the last twenty years, whereas prior, Nanqa’s player being a demon was not symbolic. The Church would find a demon born and force them to play the part, heavily collared, where he would be sacrificed inside the God of Light’s Grand Cathedral as a clear sign of Reinn Anon’s superiority and power over the God of Darkness.

Pynzanqa (Gate of Darkness - The Extra Day in Camara)

The most superstitious and feared day of each year follows on the coat-tails of the Winter Solstice in the Camarian Empire. Pyrmogae is the only month of the year to have 22 days, and many Camarians consider this 22nd day to be very ill luck, and most dare not leave their homes for fear of demons and the Dark God, Nanqa. If anyone must leave their homes they do so swathed in a cloak, with faces hidden by masks that were worn for the Winter Solstice celebrations the night before. These disguises are used to hide not only those who are afraid of being found by demons but also by those with ill intent.

As so few individuals are willing to go out on this day, the 22nd of Pyrmogae is considered a day of anarchy where abuses of the law are many: murder, adultery, intoxication, and theft abound. Holy Paladins of Reinn Anon’s Light are called to keep order in the many cities of the Empire throughout this grim day.

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Rush - Clockwork Angels

The etymology of the word Monster reveals but one rather simple definition. According to Cohen, monster “derives from the Latin monstrum, a divine portent, usually of misfortune. Augustine [ … ] thought the Latin noun to stem from monstrare, ’to show’ ; Isidore of Seville [ … ] glossed monstrum as contra naturam and connected it to monere, ’to warn”’ (“Use” 48). Classicist Catherine Atherton slightly expands on monstrum, noting that “one of the traditional roles played by monsters-as the standard etymology of the Latin monstrum indicates-is to signal or presage event or advent, even more terrifying or violently destructive than the monster itself’ (vii). Thus, the monster is that which demonstrates or warns that something has gone-or is going to go-awry.

~ Monsters We Become: The Development of the Inhuman Narrative Voice.

-

The scene in which Nathanael heard his Father call him a Monster and an AU What If? Scene in which Nathanael confronts his Mother about his Father calling him a Monster.

"Yet something has to be done."
Leaning against his parent's door, Nathanael's ear is pressed against it to hear better the conversation taking place within.
"The council is becoming restless; politics are keeping us away more often. Who will care for him?"
"Thom is here, he will do his duty as his husband to look after him, it cannot be helped we are away so much Elaina."
"Yes with Thom he will be alright but...Can-," a moment's silence, "Can we really trust him around Drefan? What if Drefan hurts him again? I do not know if he would tell us." My mother’s voice held soft doubt.
"What could you possibly mean; he would, of course, tell us if he was in pain. Have we ever given him a reason not to believe he could?"
"Nay of course not but this is something else entirely. Earlier when I was cleaning his wounds I found a cut down his left arm, a cut that could only have been self-inflicted. His other wounds were nothing like this from Drefan."
"Our son is a cutter? Nathanael knows that he will lose the light of his spirit to such...perverse practices. He must realize without the light of soul he is only a shell, a..a Monster."
...I am?
A Monster...

-

"A Monster."
"You..heard Peter say that?" Elaina whispers to her only child, her hands reaching out toward the nine-year-old.
There is only silence as Nathanael's eyes fall to the floor.
The Queen gathers the boy into her embrace, "Sometimes those we love say things because they are afraid."
The Prince's eyes are filled with tears at his own anger, willing himself to banish the vile emotions he was taught he should not feel. He looks up to his mother trying to hide how upset he was,"What have I done? I hurt no-no one but me! He's my father, he shouldn't be afraid of me!"
"He's not afraid of you Nathanael, he's afraid for you."
As though that simple difference made the pain any less deep.

As Cawson, Andriano, and Cohen note, acknowledgement of the monster is a necessary step in human development because in all ways it is human... Thus, a society must transcend the limitations of the past by discovering ways to include the unique until, ultimately, everything that is inherently human can be acknowledged and incorporated, including those aspects we often attribute to the monstrous in a misdirected attempt to exorcise ourselves of sin and imperfection. Monsters are the way to this transcendence.

~ Monsters We Become: The Development of the Inhuman Narrative Voice.

Current Mood: tired

Title: Drefan Returns home...
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings:

Mentions of past spousal and possible child abuse.

Main Character/s: Drefan Royale, Robert Royale
Plot: After having been gone for over a year in the northern deserts, the Prince has returned to home.
Location: The Imperial Royalian Palace.

-

“You worried her.”

A thick swallow, leaning forward on the fencing that was a surround for the spar taking place in front of them. Hands curl around the edging, the slivers digging into his hands as Drefan keeps his silence.

Robert continues, “Aidna thought you were dead for over a year. She would ask me continually if you were still alive. ‘Tell me you can still feel his life-force through the obelisk.’ Your mother prayed for you faithfully.”

“So?” the word is forcefully controlled, and the rest of his response is through grit teeth. “Did you strike her this time to make her stop asking about me?”

The King turns completely from the sparring match behind him, leaning his back against the fence. Arms cross before his chest in a relaxed pose, not even looking at his eldest son as he answers.

“It would not have stopped her. She’s in the grove, as she always is.”

Drefan pushes himself back from the fencing by both of his hands, done with this tense returning conference with his father. He was stiff as a board from being back at the Imperial palace where his life had been hell. The Prince of the Blood made a move to leave and Robert reaches out, his hand a flash. Meaty digits grab the nineteen-year-old by the back of the neck.

A calculated squeeze.

“You were gone for almost two years, Drefan. Did you let that time shorten your memory? I am still your King. You will speak to me as I deserve and show the respect due to me. Do you understand?”

A discordant breath escapes parted lips, eyes wide and staring ahead at nothingness whilst fists at Drefan’s sides shake. But the son gathers his words and they come forth quiet and with as much dignity as the Prince can muster in an effort to hide reborn terror, “Yes. I remember.”

“Good.”

Current Mood: chipper

Title: Separate and Yet the Same
Rating: (PG)
Content Notes/Warnings:

The Ellearn on Cor'Terrae are considered a different species from humans, not just another 'race' as that moniker is to be used within a species to denote by geography or other differentiates. Thus, this different species has many unique physical aspects, but remain humanoid enough for children of both species to grow up among each other rather easily.

Warnings: None.
Main Character/s: Sir Castillean, the Commandant of King Joscelin's Sovereign Guard, and Lady Yara Sallis the newest, and youngest Sovereign Guard.
Plot: Yara having been brought up among human orphans of the Danaigh culture knows very little about the various cultural practices of her species, and finds that she must be educated upon them often.
Location: The Castle of the Capitol City of illander.

-

Yara had only meant to knock, she had not known that her Commandant’s door was not fully closed, and that pressing against it to knock would slip it open. She had stopped once the deed had been done, tilting her head seeing through that open-sliver, that Castillean’s back was turned, with his coat, and shirt off, before the mirror.
Neither had the young Ellearn expected to see the beautiful vine of flowers that appeared as though it grew from the very flesh of the Commandant’s shoulder, trailing down, and obscuring a nipple. Confused, Yara had taken a step back from the private scene. But blue eyes in the mirror fixed on the door that had partially opened, “Is someone there?"

With a swallow, bucking herself up, Yara truly knocked, opening the door the last of the way, "Commandant, Sir, I did have need to speak to you, however… I can return…"

"Nay, it is alright, I will re-dress myself, give me only a moment.”
Yara knew that she should have looked elsewhere, but the foliage fascinated, and yet, horrified her all the same, and she could not draw eyes away, her cheeks dusting red at her own impropriety.

The elder Ellearn had moved to his bedside, picking up the gold, and black stripped under-tunic of his uniform. Straightening, Castillean looked to the newest member of the Sovereign Guard, and he stopped, holding the cloth to his chest, making no move to slip it over his head.
“You have never seen our Garden Grafting, have you?” his voice has a gentler-ring to it now, and this only causes the blush to increase, as it was the tone Castillean used when he was to educate her.

“No…” Always the orphan was reminded how different her past had made her, how growing up in the capitol ghettos had denied her the heritage of her people.

“Would you like me to explain Lady Yara? You may touch them if you wish, and I will teach you how the Mellael learned to Graft leaf to flesh, and how many have become a walking garden of epiphytes. I realize, I do, that many of our practices appear so outlandish to you, as well as unknown, and I do not expect you to come into any of them easily, however, you should know…”

Yara Sallis would take in a deep breath, stepping into the Commandant’s room fully, softly closing the door behind her, and her hands clasp behind her back to stay straight, and tall.
“I have come to realize quite starkly that I know very little about my own species sense I have been accepted into the Sovereign Guard, Sir. Castillean, and I cannot say everything that you, and Sir Armeludon have done, or will do, makes very much sense to me… But, I do want to learn, and those lilies, well they are very lovely,” she gives a hesitant little smile.

Always was the young woman willing to learn, and to try to understand, even if she would never partake, because these rituals may have been hers by blood, and breed, they were not hers by rearing. She would always be of the Human Capitol City, and the Danaigh orphans she had grown up beside, regardless of the unique physical qualities of her Ellearn species.

“Thank you, Lady Yara."

Castillean laid down the tunic on his bed, "Come, sit with me, you can bring up what you also needed to speak of with me as well, whilst I teach you a little…”
The female Knight would nod, following her superior to the small two seat table. It was at times like these that she felt adrift at sea, surrounded by those who she should have seen as brothers, and sisters, but could only see as a separate, and remote peoples that for all intents and purposes were utterly alien.

Yet Yara had promised to keep an open mind, and an open heart to the traditions of the species that she had been born of, but had never, and would never truly be a part of. So she listened, and she just for a singular moment wondered, ‘Would such flowers look so beautiful as part of me?…’

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Ryder - Ruins

Title: Inevitable Lastingness - Part Two
Rating: This Chapter is PG, Later parts will be Rated Higher.
Content Notes:

The life of Naerdiel, who would later become Nilec, the adopted daughter of the Camar'ian King. She who was the woman who seized the Dirian throne through her powers of prophecy, and who became ruthless enough to cause the man that loved her to break and fall to insanity. Shaped forever by her past, and twisted by the world she had to save, at one time, she was but a child. It's time that her story gets told.

Elearn of Camar'a are adult around 200 to 250 years of age. Adolescence starts at 130 to 150. Anything before then is considered a child, if that Ellearn child has had a normal upbringing among their own kind.

Part One

Warnings: Disturbing imagery.
Main Character/s: Naerdiel (Nilec)
Plot: Naerdiel's visions begin.

-

Haeeren naw Spiritus

(5:9 3250)

Spinning, and twirling, the Ellearn child had been dancing that day. Dancing in the old places, where the trees talked, chattering, and singing their beautiful songs. She had been enveloped in their sound, their voices in her ears.

‘It’ had stolen her breath away, and she had fallen into the cushioning grass, and leaves of the forest floor. Her eyes rolled back, her body beginning to convulse, fingers twitching, grasping with futility at the plant-life around her. The Ancient ones in unison had spoken of her anguish, confused and worried, their branches reaching toward her.

"Naerdiel!"

When next the child woke, it was to her mother's stricken face, tear streaks down both of her parents cheeks. Her mother grasped her to her breast, and her fathers fingers ran through her hair. But Naerdial did not understand, she hurt, and felt as though she had run for ages now.

What had happened?

Those who knew all in the eyes of their children, did not even know.

Neivorlyng Dwy ar bymtheg Spiritus

(9:17 3253)

‘It’ would happen with far more rapid frequency now, and Naerdial’s parents had noted that her mind would be stolen away during both quiet moments, and frantic ones. She was not allowed to leave the house unaccompanied any-longer. No more climbing of the trees, as she could fall if one of the fits seized her. No rough housing either. So the young girl would read instead, and truthfully, she did not mind reading, yet she missed the sun, and the feel of the tree-bark under her fingertips.

Mother and Father were always busy, and she was an only child like most Ellearn. At last Naerdial slipped away on her own, hoping that she could dance beneath the canopy without suffering one of the fits. But ‘It’ happened again, her body betraying her. She fell into the roots of one of the Ancestor trees, taken away from the here and now. Visions grappled with her mind of darkened skies, purple clouds drenching a weather beaten path. Glass laid there, shattered, on this steep hill-side, where a figure pushed it's self up, feet torn, and bleeding. Only as the child saw this scene did another figure form in the stranger’s place, mirroring one, then another, two beings within one body.

But Naerdial cried out, thrashing, wishing away these terrible images that horrified her young mind, and at last there was a calming embrace.

"Let yourself go..." the words were not really spoken, they weren't actually heard by her ears, but by her Thi'es, her soul. Unable to do anything more to will away the terror, Naerdial let go, falling through the Abyss so endless. Yet flowing trails of light and energy speed past her, with sparks of other souls swimming around her too, and even though she did not understand where she was now, there was an overwhelming sense of peace.

Still too young to comprehend that the very arms that embraced her were of life, of creation, and the very essence of the Heart World, the prophetess cried. But at the world’s center, The Dreamer swirled, keeping the world spinning. This ancient being wished only to teach Naerdial to dance once more, here, outside the body that the girl would come to hate so furiously.

In the core they spun together, her enveloped within the world’s serenity.

In time the child grew tired, and she was instructed tenderly, "Shh now... Sleep..." This escape would feel like only a moment for the girl who would become known as Nilec in her later years. These visions would return, and they would define her destiny, as nearly every decision she would come to make would be influenced by them alone.

This refuge, detached from fate and time would not be forgotten. Naerdial as she realized where her soul had fled that one afternoon, gained an internal sanctuary to the external agony.

Spinning forever.
Corchorum
soul-creatia.

Current Mood: groggy
Current Music: Celldweller - Just Like You

Title: Anoush, Child Avatar of Nanqa
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings:

20+ years past the events of the novels, the Lord of Darkness has had his soul be born in the body of a girl child, and has grown up with her. He has done so in his wish to understand his peoples, and to live as they have. [Also, the Lord's enemies would never think he would take the form of a child, as such a form is powerless...is it not?]

Warnings:Battle scene
Main Character/s: Anoush, Varteres (Anoush's Father,) and Lord Nanqa, God of Darkness/Honor/Undead.
Plot: Uncontrolled undead, remnant of the Scourge war many years ago, attack a small village in Royale. As the guards are losing, this little girl takes the chance to make the difference.
Location: The Village of Taschair, Imperial Royalian Empire.

-

The Master-less undead had attacked the gates of the small town of Taschair. Overwhelmed, many guardsmen had died, and those still standing had suffered tremendous damage from both, teeth, claw, and magic.

Breaking into a run, escaping the confines of her father’s embrace, the little girl moved un-noticed toward the fray. A guardsman’s agonized scream as his arm was torn to shreds had been the last that she could take to hear. Tiny feet made little noise as found herself at the battle’s center. Throwing herself to the ground at the feet of the most powerful of the undead, her voice broke upon the syllables of the incantation.

Barely heard above the den of the clash, blood began to run from the child’s nose as she sank into the mud in her ribbons and dress. It was the rain that had begun to fall that brought the fight to a stuttering stop, slowly petering, a hiss filling the air. Like acid, the divine rainwater hit the flesh of the undead, steam escaping into the skies with their screams of agony. Flesh began to disintegrate from the effects of the spell, trapping the monsters where they stood.

The rain washed the living with healing magics, wrapping about those alive and those dead. That same purple luminescence picked up the dead from the ground, suspending them as it flashed through the layers of dress before settling them back upon their feet. All of those who had died, awoke, their eyes popping open, and lips gasping upon their first, returned breaths.

Around a man’s destroyed arm, the purple light encased the flesh, and filled the terrible wound, reforming bones and muscle, nerve and tissue. It was not pretty, nor was it painless, and the act blacked out the man who had a sheer scream upon his lips.

Nothing was left in this muddy field to mark that the undead had ever been there, and the newly living starred, in such a mixture of awe, and terror at the realization of their second chances. The earth around them seeped of blood, gorging upon this feast that would strengthen it in the years to come. But that purple luminescence had not left, it wafted like fog about this place, a substance known for its Resurrection of the loyal dead.

Yet, lastly laying there at the heart of all of this was its propagator. The father had run after her, but had been pushed back by the power, like a wall of force he could not push through. But here, now, on her front in the blood was the little girl in her pink dress, her hair still done up in it’s matching ribbons. He falls to his knees by her side, gathering her bloodied form into his embrace, crushing Anoush to him as he heard her faltering, but living breaths. No more then seven, her face had been half hidden in the bloodied ground, stigmatized by her Dark God so the battle could be won.

The Avatar of Lord Nanqa, lived another day, but would need many to recover, and shakily, the village Butcher presses a kiss to her bloodied brow. Up now, he makes his way back toward the village, wishing to spirit her away to some semblance of safety. It does not surprise him, however, when, later, the many guardsman come to his home. No, they know now who, and what this seemingly ordinary little girl is, and all he can do is be by his daughter’s side as they kneel before her bed. Their heads touch the floor in reverence, and Nanqa’s name is a litany, her own only following long after. To the people, to this world, his daughter is Nanqa incarnate, and because of this he will always wonder, would anyone ever see her as his little girl?

Anoush, the child who loves to learn, the girl who tells him not to be afraid when she does something reckless. Who also, tells him to always trust in their Lord, and gives him the brightest, and biggest smiles. Oh, this child may indeed hold the soul of a powerful God within her, but she is still her mother’s daughter, and will always be her father’s, everything.

Current Mood: hopeful
Current Music: Rasmus - I'm A Mess

Title: Love is never gentle, and Grief gives way to Hate.
Rating: (Heavy PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings: Ending of the First Novel. Character Death.

My brother died yesterday in real life. Drefan has lost his, so I let him speak of his loss so maybe I can understand my own.

Warnings: Death.

Main Character/s: Nathanial Peter Quele Royale, Thom Antsrev Royale, Drefan Robert Royale
Plot: When Drefan loses his brother Thom, everything follows into a 3 year night, where Gods fell to mortal suffering, and their minds broke as easily as those they had labored to defend.
Location: illander castle, illander city.

Wasting away, that was the hardest part of it, watching him die. I had thought the knowledge that his death was on my hands would hound me far worse then this, the physical representation of it all. But no, the wheezing breaths, the shut, dull eyes were much, much worse.

The grey pallor that would give way to blue, the poor circulation that Thom already had only making the transformation from living to dead that much quicker. Nathanael is whispering to him, clutching his hand, making promises, as if the future matters at all.

My grief has never been easy, it has always transformed itself into something more, the bitterness twisting it into rage. Always I would attempt to shift the blame, to put that hate on someone else, anyone else but me. If the grief turned to rage, and rage into hatred, I could push away all of these actualities.

Thom was going to die today, and I could blame everyone under the sun, but that wasn’t going to change the fact that this was going to destroy me.

I’ve never been a happy person, my people call me their ‘Bitter Prince’ for a number of reasons, and it was in his smile that the rays of hope shone. But there would be no hope, no dreams, not after this. I was the last one of us, father - deceased, mother - deceased, and now Thom who die as well.

Where did that leave our people?
Where did that leave me?

I feel it before I see it, as my eyes are starring at the infirmary wall, and I force myself to look down as Nathanael begins to cry, head buried in my brother’s chest.

It’s done.
It’s over, and I’m alone.

My head snaps up, as agony wracks through my mind, and that voice, that comfort I have depended upon for these last three years is panicking. The breaths that come are faltering, stuttering as I feel myself rise from Thom’s bedside. The darkness envelops me once again, and I allow myself to snap free from the tethers of this reality.

It looms below us, the Abyss, and this time I do not feel it as my body rears up from the bedside, back hitting the wall as shudders wrack every one of my limbs. Digits have dug into pockets, and the black diamond nearly spills from my fingertips as it is loosened from the material coverings.

Held up now, I can see the black diamond sitting upon my open palm over my brother’s body and my lips open. Yes, the words are my own, and yet they are not only mine, two voices leak free, and they overlay the words that we need to say.

“I won’t be left behind. I won’t be made to be alone. These are not my sins, I will not be damned! Purple skies…and broken glass…”

Endless seas and memories of the past,
Purple skies and broken glass,
Shattered minds, where there is no rest,
Hatred and grief, that breaks the best of us.

Thom’s soul rose from the body on that bed, a ball of glowing white light. It would be captured then, filling the black diamond. Never be alone…

In a moment of control, and with such reverence and tenderness, contrary to the way my body seemed to quiver and jerk, would I slip that diamond away into my pocket. Safe.

With that act complete we surged forward, around the bed, and our darkness did not only crawl its way up our limbs, no, now it wrapped around us in flames. Black leaking purple, climbing and falling as the infirmary melted away into the castle’s main hall.

They would scream, and they would beg and plead, they would know what it meant to lose my brother, my mother, and the people I had only ever wanted to defend!

All there was now, was that hypnotic fire, rising into the night that had eclipsed this noontime sunlight, taking with it all that stood in our way, all that brought us to this day.

Enraged yells, and so many screams.

Laughter fills the air, a maniacal sound, the laughter of the deranged, and it’s owner… its progenitor is me.

Current Mood: morose

Title: A Shell
Prompt: Was there a night when Peter held that dagger over Nathanael while he slept contemplating the murder of his own son? Yes.
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings: The contemplation of the murder of a minor.
I wanted to have Peter's POV on his understanding of his son being spiritually dead and all that was left behind being a Shell.
Main Character/s: Peter Quele, Nathanael Peter Quele Royale

It was late, past midnight, and Eliana slept in their bed upstairs where he should be sleeping beside her. But instead, Peter stood on the left bedside of his only child, his heir, sweat forcing him to clench harder on the dagger held in his right hand. It held an intricate blade, ceremonial, and meaningful, as the dagger of his Hara.

Peter worked at the lump that sat in his throat, the one that had not left him as long as he starred at what had once been his flesh and blood. Now? No, all that laid before his sight was a shell, the body of the son that struggled to bring in each and every breath in his sleep.

Peter’s lips trembled as he recited the liturgy within his mind one more time, hoping the words would give him the strength he needed to bring down this knife and finish this night.

Reinn Anon,
Oh, Sovereign Angel
Give us the strength,
to make the right choice,
even at the cost of our blood.

Forgive us,
he who freed us,
from our sins.

He who loves us,
have mercy upon us,
mortals of sin.

But it was not enough, and his certainty fails him, and Peter shakes his head. It was a mercy to not only the child but to them all, to rid the world of thissomething, lost to the darkness. Yet, even as a shell, this being had the body of his son, and he knows he will go mad when the deed is done. He already knows his wife, and his consort will never understand, and what little strength he had in this task is sapped from him when he sees himself alone.

A shaking hand claws back through his blonde hair and his blues are clouded by tears as he tries now to leave un-noticed. Not tonight then, but this had to be done, eventually, because all that laid there in that bed was a shell. There was no soul left within it. That spirit had been lost as the boy opened his own flesh, allowing the light that resides within the breast to disperse into darkness.

The blade falls to be lost in the rug by the bedside as Peter stumbles backward, and he braces himself upon the wall. That same wall of tree and cloud that he had painted beside the boy that laid in that bed, sickly. He had failed his God, and now he failed himself because of his inability to imagine life without his wife, and lover both. So the shell continues to sleep and Peter is able to leave the child’s room quiet enough that Nathanael does not awaken.

In the cabin’s hall Peter watches his now empty hands shake, and he catches the sob that tries to escape and break the night’s silence. He looks back, a hand curling around the doorknob and he pulls the door closed upon on the nine year old who continues to sleep, unknowing of what his father had nearly done to him.

There was a scream that was forcing, pushing its way up and through him, gagging the King who tried to remain quiet in his movement as he fled. Out through cutting brush and tangling root, he muzzles himself with clenching fingertips as he falls to his knees.

Reinn Anon
Forgive me,
for my sins.

Forgive me,
my weakness.

Into his hands, the noise is caught, strangled in its shame and agony. Head bent to touch the forest’s floor, Peter wonders what now? What now will he do?He is sorry, but not for himself, no, he is sorry for the child he failed, for the shell he could not kill.

So sorry,
so very,
very sorry.

Current Music: The Hobbit - Song of the Lonely Mountains by Peter Hollens

Title: I Hate you for your Love, and I Love you for your Hate.
Prompt: I despised him for his kindness.
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings: Twisted relationship dynamics.
This was a look into Nilec's psyche in-regards to her hatred of the man that loves her so gently and intensely.
I wanted to write out and rationalize why she despises James for his kind words and noble qualities.
Main Character/s: Nilec, Quele, James Red Rose Quele Cross
Plot: Love and Hate are opposite sides of the same coin.
Location: The Northern Deserts.

-

A tool was not supposed to have human qualities; the rock hard bones she could feel beneath her fingertips were only a part of the monster she was meant to use. She could not allow the far off and forgotten softness enter a frozen heart. Watching him interact with a villager’s child, the smile that lit up his eyes brought further light to his handsome and noble qualities. But then she remembered herself and shook the sentiment aside, he was meant to be her instrument and she could not let her emotion sway her from using him.

Nilec had to remember that his life meant just as little as her own. The Gods had not factored in love or emotion, and she felt contempt for the vampire that made her feel.

Nilec despised James for his love, for his kindness, and his care. Having his hate would have made what she had to do that much easier, in tugging the leash she had crafted for him out of seductive hopes and dreams. But the man who was supposed to be a monster was far too emotive, breaking into pieces in front of her eyes. What could she, the already broken, do? It was easier to despise and destroy then to love what would be twisted by her hands so very easily.

I hated you for never fighting back; I hated you for all the kind words you ever said. I hated that you loved me even after all I have done…

The young woman detested so that her heart was further hardened. She caught herself when she would tarry upon what of him she wanted, and what it was of her, that he needed. She corroded and tainted everything she touched; growing from the fearful and shy adolescent into the captivating witch that he hungered for. Nilec made James her enemy as by race he was born to be, and would not allow herself to feel the sorrow for what she had done to him.

The vampire would become the implement she required to save the world, just two lost souls screaming at the Gods until their dying day.

James was only a means to an ends, just like the child that was growing inside her womb. Nilec owed the Gods her life and had been compelled to obey the Divine in everything and in this, there would be no difference. If there was love beneath it all, that emotion was just as corrupted as the rest.

I love you for learning to lie to me; I love you for allowing me to drive you insane. I love that you started to hate me just as I hated you…

I hate you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you…

For everything we’ve ever done and will likely ever do.

Current Mood: artistic
Current Music: Hurts - Exile

I really have not done any writing or world building lately. My mood has dropped too deeply to do so.

However, I did write this, so here is a poem about Joscelin and Rene's daughter.
Siliv is a albino, half vampire who was so feared by the public and hated that she doubted she even had a heart...

Inspired by this picture called 002 by SiaKim:

"Do I even have a Heart?
For I never hear it beating,
Am I just the walking dead?
Devoid of that living spark?”

"If I do not have a Heart,
Then why do I Hurt and Fear?
If I have No Heart at all,
Why do I Cry and feel Alone?”

"Monsters have No Heart,
So what does that make me?
I hold this beating kernel,
This organ in my hands.”

"Yet I am conscious and existing,
So I sew up this open wound.
Where my Heart lays waiting,
Until someone can prove to me.
That this Love is worth keeping.”
- Siliv Quele.

Current Mood: anxious
Current Music: Remember Me - Anadel

As Mankind is bound to Time,
The Ellaern are bound to Fate.
So the descendants of the Two,
Will be fettered to them both.
~ The Vita.S (Book of Sacred Life)

Each individual Ellearn has a unique and in-commensurable Destiny that determines their proper course in life. Having a Destiny meant that the Ellearn were bound to Fate, which decided one’s allotted years, and the extent of one’s life span. As with Destiny complete, the Ellearn begins to shimmer and finally, peacefully, passes on.

To understand and act upon one’s Fate is the ultimate goal of an Ellearn’s life. Fate directs the individual towards Destiny and Ellearn philosophy fills them with the joy of accomplishing what they were meant to accomplish. Each individual Destiny cherished and cultivated as to conform to the decree of one’s personal Destiny preserves each person’s authentic singularity (and individuality.) “For nothing is as good as bringing about what has been decreed by the Divine, for what Fate has decreed is called nature and nothing is as good as realizing one’s Destiny and seeing it through.”

To love one’s Fate is to accept it and relish in it, yet this outlook should not be mistaken for fatalism. To the Ellearn it is very important to reject fatalism. There should be a joyous acceptance of the singular Fate that makes each Ellearn a unique individual. This joy is born from the fact that there is wiggle room within the bounds of Fate, as Fate is open to the full scope of people’s strategy and ingenuity in maneuvering through ones Fated span.

There should be no resignation in the heart of an Ellearn, only a sense of welcomed certainly for what is to come. One should actively engage in the future, not just resign your-self to what is to come. The possibility of knowing Fate meant that one should bring it to fruition through active participation and effort, cultivating ones Fated span.

The goal of such a view was to force the Ellearn to focus on the important things they could control such as cultivating their own and their families destinies whilst avoiding, thinking upon those things they could not control. These uncontrollable things would be wealth, life-span and societal position (class) as these are dictated by others so they should not be concerned with. This philosophy was a wish to change the Ellearn people’s views of what is and is not important, and to redirect people’s energy and efforts from those external concerns to the important internal concerns (family and the self.)

Fate is duty; it is purpose and inevitability of the change in the Universe. "We may regard the present state of the Universe as the effect of its past and the cause of its future." All Destinies are linked through patterns in the stars, and tied then to astrology. Fate is seen as a decree by the Gods, giving oneself an opportunity to tie themselves through their Destiny to the Destiny of the world itself.

What is Destined is under the control of Fate and there are no ethical calculations involved. “As our Destiny is out of our hands, an Ellearn should never be judged upon his Fate.”

Fate from the view point of those it affects is either normative or destructive, and one works as best as they can within its bounds to correct it, but must ultimately understand that Fate is more powerful than we and as pieces upon the Divine board we simply play our parts.

-

I prayed for forgiveness.
I prayed for strength.
And I wished, and I prayed, and I hoped..
I could learn not be a monster anymore…
- A Child’s Prayer

Nathanael has a background of the acceptance of fate as the Ellearn all have destinies. In this way, he is no more special than the rest of his ancestors and for this reason, the idea of accepting his own demise is normalcy. Drefan, who was his biggest influence as a child, is human and comes from a background that says, 'Fuck Fate' (though this would change in Drefan's later life,) and this duality leaves Nath pretty confused. Nathanael clings to his own fatalistic and self hating tendencies in his resignation of what is to come. 'I deserve this. I'm just a monster; perhaps through this fate I will be redeemed.'

However, this outlook is actually incorrect even to the Ellearn, this fate bound species do not believe in simply laying back and allowing fate to do what it will. Ellearn philosophy states that you work with fate, that you strive to fulfill your destiny, but in a manner that is correct to yourself. This allows fulfillment of not only the Gods plans but your own within that fated framework.

Death through Martyrdom would be Absolution for his Sins - An Adolescent’s Hopes.

This comes to be understood by Nathanael, at last, toward the end of his fifteenth year. The Prince begins to understand that yes, there is give and take within his fate. He must defeat Drefan, yes, that is his destiny, but Reinn wants him to kill Drefan. Yet, the destiny only says 'Defeat' so Nathanael can choose to save Drefan instead. His acceptance of his fate morphs in and of itself alongside his own character growth. He evolves from a child who resigns himself to terrible comings because he believes he has no right to stop what is coming; to a young person who says, 'I will play your game, but I will play it by my rules and even if you win, I will have no regrets that I pushed, and I strived and I did everything in my power to make this fate right.'

Nathanael would go on to play to his own strengths, unwilling to give up his own scruples to fulfill destiny. He knows destiny must be completed, so he says, 'Even if I go about this a bit unorthodox, fate will be fulfilled.' So the adolescent takes oaths of Non-violence and Peace so he does not ever harm anyone himself. Alongside this, he takes a vow of Poverty so that his Guardians on the road back to the throne will not have to protect him as these oaths give him divine protection.

As a Death Dweller, he comes to accept his death not only fatalistically, but as an abstract concept (becoming the avatar of the God of Death.) This is done through the fact that Nathanael is more than willing to allow himself to die, yet will fight the God of Death to hell and back for the lives of his Guardians who are his friends. For this stubborn and determined strength the God of Death gives Nathanael 9 lives, and with each death Nath accepts his impending death with less resignation.

Though in further character growth, time passes and after the Prince regains the throne and becomes a parent of three children, Nathanael becomes angry at the thought of his final death as he now is leaving his babies with no mother. Oh Nath gets very angry at his fate at last in the few months before his foretold death at the end of the series, not for his own sake, no, but for his children and his kingdom that is still in ruins and needs a King.

Coming around full circle, Nathanael has accepted his destiny, he won’t fight his fate, yet that anger remains. As the eighteen year old lies dying, he realizes that he is allowed, after all those years of adherence to a script that would end with his death, to think that, 'You know what? I didn't actually deserve any of this.'

Current Mood: artistic
Current Music: AZEDIA - Agony

Tear Tarnished Angel

Musings

[novels] unrepentant hopes chapter 4 - first draft

[novels] unrepentant hopes chapter 3 - first draft

[Novel Drabble: Dead end wishes

[Novels] Elaina - Writing and Planning

[Novels] World Building - Destiny and Fate

[Novels] Nathanael’s acceptance of Fate/Destiny and Death

[Novel Drabble] Happiness

[Novels] World Building - Royalian Prior Book Events Pt.1/3

[novels] Ramblings on the Redemption of 'Villains' and possible names for my books?!

[Novels] World Building - The Calendar

[Novel Work] 'The Child is a Monster' Says the Father into the Night

[novel drabble] A possible part of Chapter 2 - Drefan returns home...

[novel drabble] Separate and Yet the Same

[Novel] Inevitable Lastingness - Part Two

[Novel Drabble] Anoush, Child Avatar of Lord Nanqa

[Novel Drabble] “Love is never Gentle, and Grief gives way to Hate.” (Drefan’s POV)

[Novel] Drabble: A Shell

[Novel] Drabble: I hate you for your love, and I love you for your hate.

[Novel] Small Poem

[Novel] A Species Bound to Fate and a Protagonist's view of Destiny

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