nathanialroyale | Entries tagged with drefan

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

A ramble… The death of Queen Frigga in Thor Dark World angered me so much I did not watch the movie. Ever.

I loathed the idea that she had been used only as a source of motivation for Loki, a character who lies, hurts, and betrays people.

The idea of, “…the familiar trope of the death of a female providing source of motivation for the hero.”

Welp… shit. I may have done the thing :<

-

Aidna Royale. Drefan’s mother, a woman who has been abused and largely silenced by the King who she is the concubine to, a woman who promised to care for the child of the Queen dying in childbirth.

“She was my friend.”

There wasn’t jealousy between the two, and the Queen had helped the woman her husband loved, to understand and speak better, the language of the foreign land Aidna found herself residing inside. Concubines were normal in Royale, and so were political marriages. Being in Royale meant that Aidna was cut off from her people, from her father by thousands of miles and an arctic mountain range, which all aided Robert in his maltreatment of her.

Drefan finally having the power to do so, murders Robert for the years of abuse. Aidna finds herself free, but even more alone. She misses Robert, and she cannot tell her son, as she knows he will look down on her for it, after all, Robert was a villain. But love does not always make sense.

Thom, the son of the Queen falls ill, begins to waste away and he asks for his death to not be meddled with, abnormal in a land where necromancy was the norm and often royals become undead. But Thom wants to pass on, hoping against all hope that he can find his love again, another boy, Nathanael, in their next life. Nathanael has been dying of illness too. But they were of antagonizing Gods, there would be no way… The afterlife did not work that way for them.

Originally in the novel- Unrepentant Hopes, Aidna kills herself only a month or two before Thom finishes his wasting in bed. Another piece of sanity lost for Drefan. Drefan goes mad, free falling into the Abyss at the end of Unrepentant Hopes. The God who took up space inside his mind, snapping away from its own tenuous sanity too. They go on to butcher millions.

But is it not that I am taking her personal agency and using her for the same plot device?

It is true she is suffering emotionally and mentally, awfully by the near end of the First book. But she made a promise and even if Thom was dying and she felt that she had failed, would she leave him to die alone?? No. She would be a wraith, lifeless but still there, waiting, unable to leave until Thom is gone. Thinking perhaps that she can find the strength to stay after Thom is gone, as Drefan is her son and she should not leave him alone. Drefan was suffering as well, it is easy to see it upon his face as they wait for Thom to pass. She has to stay for her children even if suicide would be the easy way out.

It makes much more sense that she is by Thom’s side as he breathes his last, with Drefan and Nathanael. That she sees at that moment Drefan losing to the madness and the Void rolling off of him, licking at the walls and floors. Aidna raised by a people who worshipped the Void, realizes her son is gone. That the laughter is not Drefan’s alone, multiple voices are inside that madness.

It is Aidna who pushes Nathanael under Thom’s infirmary bed, surging to her feet and shoving the boy Thom had loved safely undercover and away from the fell magic.

Does she still die? Yes. Is it still another death on Drefan’s concious? Yes. Does he blame himself still? Hell yes. But her death is not just another motivation on the path of one of the main male characters. She chooses to protect Nathanael in the same way she has always chosen to protect Thom and Drefan: with her body & her life.

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: YONAKA - She's Not There

A strange, silent, and powerful imagery.

There were black roses that had grown between the cracks of the palace cobblestone. Flowers growing singularly, with their stems and thorns poking up and through the recesses toward the sun, unnatural within a cityscape. To the right, a few hundred blooms were uniform black, and to the left, there were thousands of unique blossoms. These roses differed in character, they had pink bleeding from their petals like pallid blood splashed against the darkness.

A slight inhalation, a tiny gasp, no more than that, yet a noise all the same. Because, in their own terrible, devastating way, these flowers were exquisite. The deep blacks, the bloody pinks… They were a living grave, a silent reminder, a deity’s memorial, awe-inspiring in their harsh, dreadful beauty. They brought forth admiration for the Royalian people's sacrifice, piteous love for their banished Lord Nanqa, and yet, even so, they were a sight this traveler never wanted to see again.

For every black rose, a man fell, for every pink tipped rose, a woman fell in defense of their city and palace.
A persisting funerary given by a remorseful God.

- The World of Cor’Terrae.

Current Mood: sleepy

Title: a smaller ending [Book 2]
Rating: (PG-13)
Content Notes:

Nathanael’s pov. Book 2. The War has been won. Drefan has been stopped. Scene- Through Thom and Nathanael’s perseverance, Drefan’s mind has been freed…

---

...

Drefan made a move to brush past us all, newly risen with his mind returned to his control.

“Dreffie?”

“It’s too light here. You know that. I’m not meant to be here and no one ever wanted me here. Go on kid,” he looked back to me, stopping just for a moment.

“Rule your Kingdom, and maybe help them, my people. Undo all the Gods damn damage your parents did in their blind judgment of things they didn’t understand. Finish your destiny. I never thought I had one but well look where that got me. I’m frankly sick and tired of it all. You set me free…”

Drefan’s brows furrowed heavily, “I won’t forget that. But we’re even. I saved you, and you saved me. Done deal. I’m gone.”

“Where?” the word escaped with a sob.

“Well as you and Thom wouldn’t leave well enough alone and here I am out of the Abyss. You’ll find me in my personal hell.”

With that he turned, hands in his pockets, heading through the doors like no time had passed like nothing had happened in the last 6 years.

He just left.

Drefan walked away. The teleportation circles would take him to the Border Forest. But I did not want to go back to the cabin, it was our personal hell and I wanted no part in it. I could not understand and it hurt, after everything, it hurt so gods damned much.

The Kingdom was saved, the battle won, and nothing, for me, had changed.

Drefan still did, indeed, hate me.

Thom was dead.

All of my family? Gone.

Do you still blame me for not being able to stop any of it? I was a child…I still feel like a child. 17. Barely-grown. I was innocent, ignorant of the world and its sins back then. I did not know…you know that I wish I had. That I could have stopped what Robert had done to you and to our beloved Thom.

We are the last ones left, you and I.

Our secrets buried.

Deep inside.

Yet here I sit on the final battlefield, spurned.

I knew I had to move on, to get up, to take my throne and be crowned King. But I needed this time to scream. Because this was not how things were supposed to be. This was not how it all was supposed to end. My heart had lied to me.

So I screamed and I thrashed as Sir Raphael held me, stopping me from using my sharpened nails on myself. So much blood, what was a little more? But no, my Sovereign Guard refused as he pushed my face into his tunic sheltering the world from an anger that I had not allowed myself to express in eight years.

Not since the day I learned, I would die.

I had a kingdom to rebuild and I knew I could not run after you. Not again. I had to think of my people before myself. Nobody would understand.

Goodbye, Drefan.

I love you. Still.

Current Mood: busy
Current Music: Jonathon Davis - The Secret

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

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: 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

Rating: PG-13
Notes:The Scourge War devastated Camar’a Sere’th, a war that would have seen all the life and beauty snuffed out, the destruction of the very world. Nearly forty percent of the known world was killed during that war, and the man who had lead the undead army, Drefan Robert Royale, Prince of Royale was forgiven for his part in the events and as far as most know has gone into hiding. Most just wish him dead. This is 21 years later.

---

"I understand war Mylord, every scar seen and unseen on this shell is from war." Shnorhik rebuked her eyes on Drefan’s turned back. “I know the hate, I know the ignorance. But how much longer do we have to wait? They will wait, your people will wait till the day old age takes their souls into the stream and their blood nourishes the land. But must they? You are our heir," she implored.

Words would grow louder as the warrior tried to get her point across, “Camar’as’ terror at our loyalty should not stop us from being free. What did we fight for? What did those women die for if not for our God Nanqa, if not for you!?”

“Which is precisely why I can’t rule!" Drefan spun to face her, his eyes black fire now, but even so she would not back down as he tried to make her understand. “Damn it, it is my fault that nearly my entire people were eradicated and you want me to take the throne?!"The words hissed out through grit teeth. Shnorhik’s arms crossed as she watched him, her brown eyes on his black, and “…Is that what you really believe?" she asked at last and the Royalian shook her head at him a deep sadness to her eyes.

“No Mylord, we knew, in our hearts," her scarred hand laid on her breast. “Through the darkness, we could feel the grief weighing down and you slipping away from us. But you were too far afield, we could do nothing from here," and the grief was huffed out, eyes hardening, starring at Drefan unafraid of her liege, daring to challenge him with her next words. “You never had to ask for our forgiveness! To us there is nothing to forgive!"

“Nothing??" Drefan snapped but Shnorhik would not give up ground, "Nothing. We marched north into the lands of light; we fought beside Islay, Daranigh, Jharrik and Gaelian because you were lost. If we could stop you then maybe we could stop the world’s suffering, free the northlands holy city, and with that perhaps you would be freed too. Honor dictated no less then stand beside our enemy because they would never do such a thing for us!"

Drefan starred at Shnorhik, at the woman who had died and risen moments later to keep on fighting in a seemingly endless war more times than could be comprehended. She shook her head, not having lost that same strength twenty one years after the fact, “We were not going to give up on you, or give up on Nanqa. Never."

She stepped another solid step forward, eyes still boring into his unerringly, “You never had to ask anything of us, we give ourselves freely. That has always been our way; we die upon our blade to give our lives for you, for Royale, our homeland. You then bring us back to fight anew in the legions of undead and we are proud to have that honor to serve our kingdom and our King. We give up our first born child, returning that precious life to Nanqa so he may remain strong in the void so someday he can come back to us. We wait! We have waited two thousand years, when by the Lord of Darkness and Honor does the waiting end? When can I take my blade to the stomach of the next Camar’ian fool who dares shove and spit on one of us?"

Drefan began to shake, the wisps of darkness crawling up his arms and slowly he would lose his human appearance, showing the skeletal undead beneath. Shnorhik continued, “You are a Liche Mylord, we consider that the greatest honor bestowed to man, to attain immortality and search for wisdom and knowledge for eternity. Is this all forgotten by the lack of having a soul?" She sounded pained and suddenly exhausted, “Perhaps it is not only the Camar’ians who need to learn of Royale," and the fire went out in her and she at last turned away. “Fear not the deity that created you Mylord, for that is the greatest of sorrows, to lose faith in what only meant to protect you."

Drefan hissed through his teeth softly, hands curled into fists by his sides, “Nanqa through my hands was what dealt all the death and destruction that took place during the Scourge War!"

Sudden bitter laughter from Shnorhik and her eyes closed hard, head shaking, back still turned to him, “No, no. That was insanity, not Nanqa. Not you."

Drefan fell silent. All of it just sounded like excuses.

"I cannot explain it well enough, I do not know enough to explain, but we believe. Our Lord Nanqa came back to us when the war ended when for three years no prayers were answered. But even during that while, roses bloomed for the souls sacrificed to protect our lands; people came back from the dead time and time again. No other deity has want of us; no other deity has given so much to us. We are Nanqa’s and Nanqa’s alone, though we honor all Sixteen, even Reinn Anon who wants us wiped off this planet like an infestation." Shnorhik turned slowly to look through her dark brown curls at the man who had nearly destroyed the world. Drefan Robert Royale, descendent of Nanqa,undead liche, bitter and tired after his mind was restored from grief stricken hatred, the man that should have been the Royalian King, their King.

Drefan huffs,"Alright, then who do I speak to now?"

“There is a little girl Mylord, she is favored by Nanqa, a vessel for our Lord of Darkness, she would be able to explain better. I am a warrior, not a priest."

“…Then I will attempt to find her,” Drefan mumbled, so it seemed her words had shaken him and he would go looking for this girl after all. Nathanael had been right, even if others forgave you themselves; if you did not believe yourself worthy of their forgiveness you would never be forgiven. Perhaps he needed to do the forgiving, to forgive his deity in return so that he could be free?

It was worth a try he supposed…

Current Mood: hungry
Current Music: Mad World - Gary Jules

Drefan had not thought everything through in murdering his father, he was not normally so impulsive. The last year had disrupted and changed so much. But the King of Royale, his father was dead, in small pieces in some brook somewhere, where no-one living would find the abusive Son of a Bitch. But that meant Royale had no King, Robert’s wife Elizabeth was a mouse of a woman from the abuse, daughter of a Danaigh merchant from the north, she could not rule herself, a foreign woman and in a foreign land.

The throne fell to Drefan, but wait, the peace agreement, the legally binding marital agreement between Cama’ra and Royale told a different story. Bitter enemies for more then a millennium, this had been a very long time in coming, orchestrated by Drefan that his younger brother would marry the Camar’ian heir. So Drefan could not rule if he did not wish to break treaty. He had worked for years, putting up with slander and ridicule by his enemies to get peace for his people…

Until Thom was of age their would be no King of Royale, the throne left empty and Camar’a pulling it’s strings. Drefan had to talk to his people, translating for the two people he wanted dead now even more then his father, but the thought of war stilled his hand. With Queen Elaina and King Peter standing at his back he passes the edicts that are veiled threats, and diplomatic vomit. He cools his expression and acts the diplomat as he boils inside, strings being pulled as a marinate.

The people of Royale listened to him, true heir of the Dark throne, to tell them to peacefully give up their arms, the men ordered to give up their swords and military academies closed. The Kingdom of Light feared it’s old enemy greatly and the only control they could keep was through military superiority. Drefan felt the clenching of his gut squeeze harder each and every time he saw the look of confusion, the mix of trust and loyalty in the eyes of his people. An honest bewilderment of people with too great an honor code to not obey their Lord. The Royalians simply wanted to know why Drefan was agreeing, they wanted to know why they did not fight the Camar’ians.

All Drefan could say to them in his anguished eyes was…

Wait.

By Nanqa, the Dark Lord, I’ll do something.

I promise.

The resignation of their eyes would only grow in the next year as foreign policies were instated, foreign guards and lords taking the place of their own. Sadness, anger Drefan could have understood, could have comforted but resignation? Resignation was unassailable.

To save himself and his brother from private agony he had caused the oppression of his own people by their oldest enemy. Peaceful the guise may have been he knew as Elaina and Peter took his brother Thom aside to teach him how to rule that they would systematically destroy everything Royalian about his beloved homeland.

Drefan’s killing of his father caused this disaster, then the spell he meant to use on one of his brother’s friends went awry and began to slowly kill his brother… His mother Elizabeth suicides and Drefan knows as he reads the note she left behind it is his fault. Monster.

At last his brother succumbs to the disease from the spell and perishes with Drefan clutching his hands at Thom’s bedside. Chaos had been inching it’s way, twisting in, breaking pieces away and finally his mind shattered. Everything he had meant to do to help had only furthered the destruction of everything he held dear.

So then, who were the first to die when he loses himself to the darkness and his God with him?

The King and Queen of Cama’ra.

Gaelians, the people of Camar’a, oppressors of his people.

Those who scorned and hated him still.

All would die, and rise again to serve him in undeath. All for the love of his family and his homeland.

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Demon Hunter - Carry me Down

Book one

Nilec, Nathanael’s sister is told of her destiny by her Goddess, Wan’an’iena, Goddess of Fate and Time. Nilec does not fight this because of a past where she had nothing except her Goddess by her side. She knows she will have to manipulate a man into loving her, marrying her and together they will take a country through her visions and strategy. This will aid her brother Nathanael when he is taking back the throne through the army they will be able to give him to take back the capitol city. Nilec knows she will break this man, James, and she does not wish to do so but knows that Elves were not given the gift of free will like man. She will do as her destiny foretells.

Nathanael heir to the Camar’ian throne finds out he is going to die at age 9 of chronic illness. He has been married to the prince of the southern country, Thom sense birth for peace. Camar’a and Royale have been at war for nearly two millenia because of ideological and religious hatred. The Northern country of Camar’a following the God of Light Reinn Anon, and the southern country following the God of Darkness Nanqa.

Prince Drefan, Thom’s older brother acted as diplomat to the north and arranged the marriage so his war weary country could have peace. Elaina, Nathanel’s mother is both King and Queen as her husband is overwhelmed and mentally weak, Peter being a pawn to the nobles. Elaina and Peter have Nathanael grow up in a cabin far from the court so he will be able to have a childhood as they did not because of the courts.

Thom and Drefan are more parents to Nathanel then his actual parents, even so he still wishes for their warmth and approval. The boy finds out he does not just enjoy but craves pain, a mental disease that he cannot escape. Thom is concerned but supportive, Drefan shows Nathanael his own scars.

Drefan at the beginning of the book is being cared for by his brother Thom and friend Lawrence at the end of a six week recovery from nearly 9 months of doing opium. His body is dying as well from the damage done to his lungs and liver among other things. Drefan becomes a lich to keep himself ‘alive’, giving up his soul in exchange for immortality as members of his bloodline have done in the past. He also hopes this will give him the power to overpower and finally kill his father Robert who has been abusing Thom, his mother Elizabeth and he. Thom does not remember this abuse though as Drefan cleans his memories wishing to preserve his brothers kind nature and not have Thom turn as bitter as he.

In a dream/vision of a theater, Thom, Robert and Elizabeth are dead, being puppet-ed upon the stage. Nathan goes up the winding iron staircase to find the puppet master. Drefan is watching as well from down the iron walkway, his expression stoney in his shock and revulsion at what they are seeing.

The one puppeting is a form that shifts like liquid from Drefan, to Robert, to Nathanael, to shadowy figures that neither can completely make out except one. But Drefan knows this one, his own God, Nanqa, and he keeps this information to himself. Nathan still yells at Drefan that he doesn’t want to be monster, they still argue, Drefan still angrily insists that no one wants to be a monster and Nathan falls as the railing breaks.

Nathan wakes up from this dream and Nilec tells Nathanael of his destiny. That he will lose everything and everyone and must have the strength to take back the throne and have a child before his death at 18. Nathanael who only knows conditional love from his parents and knows of his father’s shame in him because of his craving of pain believes himself a monster too, he will not fight a painful destiny that he at 9 years old believes he deserves.

Drefan after the vision now knows that this will be the future and tries to change it. Giving him another reason to kill Robert besides his vengeance, he believes if he kills his father perhaps his family will be safe not only from all these years of abuse but from a terrible future. However his anger and hatred still lead him down the same path and even with good intentions Drefan still is the reason that his father Robert, Mother Elizabeth and brother Thom all die. Everything he did was with good intentions, wishing to save his mother and brother, giving his country peace, but in the end these good intentions paved the road to hell. It is his fault his entire family dies, that his country is taken by Camar’a, and that destiny still prevails.

Coming to realize that he is the cause for everything, that he really is a monster, a monster worse even then his father over the dying body of his brother transforms him. That he in doing everything to escape destiny, only helped it to prevail is the catalyst that sends him hurtling into the abyss, shattering his mind. He has nothing left to lose after the betrayal of his love Riq’ua, who refused to believe that he was being abused and the pushing away his only friend for Lawrence’s safety.

Nanqa, God of Darkness who was inside Drefan’s mind to attempt to help him through all of his struggles is caught within a mortal mind. Nanqa knows he has failed his bloodline, for Drefan is a scion of his line and within a mortal mind Nanqa shatters from guilt and rage. The diety then becomes consumed by Drefan’s hatred and wish for vengeance, and does not only kill Nathanael’s family and the court of Camar’a but goes on a warpath.

Nathanael lost his own family that day as well but, The God of Light, Reinn Anon, who Nathanael is the scion of tells him he must kill the last remaining person Nathan has, as Nathanael does not know if Nilec lives. Nathanael must save his world by killing the last person he loves in the world.

Broken and shattered Drefan not only destroys the country that made his own suffer, genocides the people most beloved by the other Gods because his people were hated but goes on to try to kill All life. Everything would suffer. Everything would Die.

Drefan becomes the enemy.

Nathanael has to stop him.

Current Mood: restless
Current Music: Within Temptation - See who I am

Drefan, you tried to set me free and I do thank you and I know you did it the only way you knew how. You live what you learn you once said long ago. There is truth and lie to such a statement. You live what you have learned and wish to teach. To love and never have hated is to never have felt true passion; I think I am realizing that now. All emotions are flips of a coin, heads and tails, darkness and light.

I can feel hate, I used to deny it, I used to wonder why I couldn’t feel it. But that was not true, I can, but I have blocked it out, deep in my heart. But what has that done for me all this time? I tried to block out anger as well, and it has taken all this time, the loss and the abuse to realize that both emotions are only just that, emotions like the rest. I thank you Drefan for what you did for me but I hate you all the same. I am angry at you for the years of my life you stole from me, the hopes and dreams you shattered because you had none yourself. You tried to destroy me, but you made me stronger. You tainted and liberated me. I thank you…and I hate you.

I am growing up, I’m not afraid anymore. I’m learning to love myself; I am an altruist, and a masochist. I may have been a monster, but now I am Damion’s angel. I was a broken china doll, but now I am someone’s salvation, their hopes and their dreams. I am looking to the future now not the past; I’m going to stop feeling sorry for myself now. I never realized by hating myself how much I was hurting people who loved me. I am sorry. I’m a hypocrite, wishing to not burden others, and to hurt them. I always ended up blaming myself, but I just didn’t want to blame other people, I did not want to hurt or sadden others.

But the greatest pain is to see someone you love never forgive themselves, to believe themselves undeserving. I will stop hating myself and hurting others through that self deprecation. I will try to forgive myself for the things in my life I cannot change; I will try to love myself through all the pain and all the sadness. I will love, I will hate, I will cry and I will scream; I want to be whole. Like some scattered puzzle I will find all of my wayward pieces so you, my love, can help me put myself together again. I want to be worthy and I know that I need to find myself worthy first.

Damion? Will you wait for me? I’m still learning even as I am dying, and I may fail… But what is important is trying right? So I will try. For Drefan who is my past, for Damion my present and for my son who is my future and at last…Myself too.

I will try.

- Nathanial Peter Quele Royale

Current Music: I'd Come for you - Nickleback

Title: Admitting fault and Carrying on. Part 2/2.
Rating: (Blanketed warning of NC-17)
Beta:

ebonrune
Content Notes:This is split into two parts because of length. This part is 8,465 words. I am very happy with these pieces. Ayo is yes in Royalian. First Het sex scene. I left Amaya's name in the western style with last name being after the first for simplicity, I realize it would be switched.
Warnings: Mentions of unrequited incest, Yaoi, Yuri and Het. Mentions of Past Sexual, Physical and Physcological Abuse, mentions of past addictions to drugs and alcohol, Sex scene.

Plot: Twenty one years have passed since The Scourge War, and the hero, young King Nathanial, has died long before his time. Nathanial's son, Crown Prince Joscelin recently took the throne waiting in trust for him. The enemy of the war, Drefan Robert Royale, a man that nearly destroyed the world was forgiven by the altruistic Nathanial for his crimes. But even still Drefan has yet to forgive himself or those who pushed him to the brink of madness and beyond. It is past time that this broken man finds peace.

--

A return of what was lost.

Drefan decided that when he did the ritual to free his soul from the black diamond and take it back within his body that he would do so alone. He had no wish for Sevuk or Samuel to see him, as the initial outpour of emotions and memories would be overwhelming. A reclaiming of everything he had lost; the good, the bad, the pain and the joy, memory and emotion. He had not had many individuals he would call friends in his forty seven years and with the return of his soul he worried of losing them to weakness. Drefan consequently kept to himself for a few days. King Samuel was a persistent if not stubborn individual however who would not let him be on his own for too long.

( Read On... )

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: BackStreet Boys - Show me the meaning of being lonely

Title: Admitting fault and Carrying on. Part 1 of 2.
Rating: (Blanketed warning of NC-17)
Beta:

ebonrune
Content Notes: I have not written so much in sequence in a long time.This is split into two parts because of length. This part is 3173 words. The second part is triple that. I am very happy with these pieces. Ayo is yes in Royalian. This takes place many years after the novels, so there is an overview of events at the beginning.
Warnings: Mentions of Past Sexual, Physical and Physcological Abuse, mentions of past addictions to drugs and alcohol.

Plot: Twenty one years have passed since The Scourge War, and the hero, young King Nathanial, has died long before his time. Nathanial's son, Crown Prince Joscelin recently took the throne waiting in trust for him. The enemy of the war, Drefan Robert Royale, a man that nearly destroyed the world was forgiven by the altruistic Nathanial for his crimes. But even still Drefan has yet to forgive himself or those who pushed him to the brink of madness and beyond. It is past time that this broken man finds peace.

--

Events and Changes.

Joscelin Quele Ante succeeded the throne of Camar’a at twenty one years of age, year 2018 Astrium, beginning the Age the Stars. His first action as King shook the political quiet of the Kingdom that had been at peace for over twenty years. King Joscelin boldly addressed those that stood that day in the throne room with a message of political freedom and tolerance. He was convinced that the peace the world had been blessed with came at the cost of thousands who were oppressed by the Camar’ian government. The southern kingdom of Royale, the kingdom of the God of Darkness, had been ravaged by The Scourge War twenty one years ago that had nearly destroyed their entire world. Royale suffered needlessly because Camar’a feared the Kingdom that the Lich Drefan Robert Royale had been reared in, had been the prince of. For one man’s actions, an entire kingdom was held to blame and Joscelin refused to allow this to continue.

( Read On... )

Current Music: Finger Eleven - Panic Attack

Title: Almost.
Prompt: Injury
Rating: (R)
Content Notes/Warnings: First Sex scene ever. Timeline is prior to Novels. I am very pleased with this piece, I haven't been so personally pleased with a piece of my own writing in a very long time.

Warnings: Mentions of Past Abuse and injuries, Sex scene.

Main Character/s: Drefan Robert Royale, Lawrence
Plot: Drefan can almost forget...almost.
Location: Lawrence’s farmstead in Royale

--

Lawrence’s thumb brushed the choke-hold, the rope marks that encircled my throat and he said no worries, though with Lawrence this was a simple habit of his silence. I enjoyed the peace, the calm that came with him, and my chin dipped up toward the ceiling in my own silence giving him permission to touch as he willed. No one else had that trust, not yet, only Lawrence and Thom could brush my skin with bare fingertips causing gentle shivers down my spine. But it was Lawrence that could go further, and I opened my lips for him when he leaned in to kiss me with a gentleness that I had not known before I had first let this man in. Tenderness and gentleness were not simple words to me, they were somewhat of a mystery, one unraveled by the only friend I had, a farmer’s boy who had stood at my back during a bar brawl.

Not the way I would have thought to meet anyone that I could get this close to, but I know looking back and forward, you have to worm your way in. I’m not out to make friends, to allow people to see inside of me, and Lawrence fought at my back with fists, untrained but with upper body strength only a farmer would have. It was in itself a long road to this point, communication, touch, and trust, but it brought us to this and Lawrence leaned his weight against my body, enough that I could feel the heat of his chest. Dark brown eyes were intent on my face as we broke for breath, but I had always appreciated that with me, he did not try to hold eye contact. It was a norm in our culture to look the other in the eye at all times, but with the knowing of each other it seemed he could tell it was not something I would do during this.

( More Written Inside )

A tanned hand slid up over the white cloth of my shirt, and the other tugged out from pants so it could touch skin causing me again to shiver. I did meet his eyes for a small time, my usual midnight blues lighter and his browns darker. A smile was the reply to my action and he leaned his forehead against my own, his black dreadlocks falling around his shoulders, laying partially over mine. This path had been taken more than a few times, nights of drinking to forget about the scars and hates, but those nights weren’t so gentle. At first I thought he let me do it because of my position but I had to remind myself back then that I had not told him I was prince, that I had wanted one man not to kiss my ass and shine my boots for nothing more than a penance. And in confusion I had to go off on my own to reconcile with how this man could trust me when he did not even know my name. I could never do such a thing, but I know I’m repressed, I know my childhood was damaging and that even with all the bravado there’s something seething inside.

He knows too. Lips brush my nose and then they move up, feathers over my furrowed brow and his hand moves from bare stomach to tangle in my blonde hair, dipping me forward so he could press a kiss to the top of my head. Never any words, for some reason with him they just weren’t needed, Lawrence was a man who did not waste his breath on un-needed frivolities. I had no need to put up the front, to wage the diplomatic war of words, and that took years off of me, allowing me to look into the mirror and realize that I was only sixteen.

Lawrence’s cheek rested against my forehead, an arm of mine looping about his waist and tucked as I was against the hollow of his throat, feeling the up and down of his Adam’s apple the words rose to a whisper.

“I’m not a virgin.”

There was no reaction, and my own Adam’s apple bobbed with sudden nerves and I knew that voice inside. I would not let that voice tell me I should not have spoke the words, that voice of cynicism and rage, a voice that wore my father’s face.

Time was too slow in seconds like these before he pulled away so his dark brown eyes looked back to my face, not right into my eyes but at my face.

“You spoke you had never had a relationship,” the words were not accusatory; they were confused, asking for relief and explanation.

“I haven’t...” I answered and I leaned my head back against the wall of his bedroom where he lived with his parents, no longer did I keep secret that I was royalty, he knew, and so did they.

“But I’m not a virgin.”

Eyes trailed back to the rope burns I left exposed by the position of my head and the line of my throat. Lawrence stayed silent again, starring at the marks with his intense gaze, and I shivered but this time not because of his touch. With my reaction he took up my hand with his own, eyes intent on the rope burns around my wrist that matched the throat. Turning my wrist he bent, dreads cascading about to cover his face again as he brought my hand the last distance to his lips. A kiss pressed against my knuckles, “We die too quick to live in the past,” the words breathed against skin, “We must make with what we can.”

Straightening his eyes found mine and continued speaking, “Then it is a matter of show, and of differences told. Re-learn, and push back the tides of your drowning.”

Lawrence never asked me how, why, when, where of the scars and my bitterness, he worshiped the inches of my skin as he walked me to his pallet. Every scar was examined with eyes and tasted with lips, but never was there words said. My shames and my frustrations were my own, and he understood this without even having to be told.

Settling down he pressed weight slowly onto me, and now I would meet his eyes, and I would keep the gaze, to tell myself of better things, of Lawrence and trust and nothing else. I held back the gasps that I could as his hand buried gently in my hair and he found a sensitive spot over left ribcage with his tongue and teeth. His desire was mimicking my own, and heated groans puffed past panting lungs as lower extremities contacted and ground. Extra time spent on those markings along my thighs and my hands gripped onto the pallet in my impatience, a growl pushed past my lips as he made me wait. Head up, tongue licking over his wet lips, I panted as Lawrence looked up at me, dark brown was so different from dark blue, and I made myself see the differences, not the similarities. His lips were coy at my impatience and it hit me hard again as it always had, Lawrence was fourteen. His body and his demeanor spoke of a man older then I, but that was how it happened in the fields of Royale, from the day you could walk you helped on the farm and you matured faster than the ilk of the upper-class. Brows furrowed down at him the smile grew and he dipped back and the Bastard! My voice nearly took a high pitched tone of puberty when his lips wrapped around my organ.

“Lawrence!”

He had never tried that before even when we were tossed by drink and it did not take long at all before I could think no further except on what he was doing. The pressure building into a ball in the pit of my stomach and his fingers taking sacks into hand was the last straw and I tugged two dreads trying to give some form of warning. Drawing back I let go and the orgasm shook through me as he lay by my side watching me as my eyes clenched shut. Fingers ran through my disheveled hair and my eyes opened to him, a brow going up at him as he still was as hard as ever.

Lawrence sat up on one elbow looking into my face and a thumb brushed my cheek, “I will show you differences,” and he moved to press against me again, weight settling between my spread legs.

It wasn’t easy finding something we could use to ease the way but he had kept the bottle of massage oil I had brought last time for this and it served for our purpose. I clenched him to me with an arm as he pressed into me, the other hand grasping at the pallet so I could call off my own defensive reactions to the searing burn. Kisses were pressed over my shoulders and one to my Adam’s apple, pants and shoulders rose and fell as Lawrence stayed still for me, the burning beginning to ease away. Growing hard again against his stomach he took it as the silent queue to begin to move and I fell back against the pallet, starring up at him.

Past words slither through my conscious, “There is no love found between two men, no love between two women, only carnal desire...” What the fuck would Robert know? Father’s a sick bastard who gets off on kinks and power trips, how the hell would he know about love? Even if this isn’t love, I don’t need it, Lawrence is my friend and that’s enough for me.

“Drefan,” Lawrence shuddered against chest as the heat had increased so that we were sweating and sliding against each other, my fingers digging into his black dreadlocks. My name on his lips, fuck love, this, this was enough for me.

And noises rose higher before they died, clutching each other, Lawrence resting most of his weight on me to get himself back from post orgasmic bless. He didn’t move still and I found I didn’t really mind, his fingers sliding through my hair as I felt the coarseness of his own. Watching the rise and fall of his shoulders and back against me, I grinned pressing a kiss to a sweaty tanned shoulder.

“That was nearly as good as going to the opium dens,” there was near laughter in my voice that never saw the light of day anywhere else but here.

A hard chuckle against me he looked up to me, “Almost.”

I rubbed his back with my palm and shrugged, starring up at the thatched ceiling wondering if it was worth the risk coming home smelling of Lawrence. I would do it to just get the prick in my face, to let him know again and again that he could do whatever the fuck he could get away with but I’m not his. But it wasn’t worth the risk for Lawrence’s sake, but I did want to go home smelling of another man just to piss Father off to high heaven, “I’m going mad,” I whispered to no-one in particular.

“But I knew it would happen,” I continued, the words rang with emotion, bitterness and sadness, and Lawrence kissed my brow again holding my face in his hands.

“I will pray to Nanqa every night, I will pray that he will look out for you, you who are of his bloodline. I am certain our Lord would help in any way he can.”

Giving Lawrence a quick but deep kiss, “I know, he does what he can,” and lay my head back down.

“Stay?” Lawrence’s head on my chest, I closed my eyes, “Yes.”

I’m going mad, I knew it would happen, slow and steady, the pieces chip, pieces fall and my mind builds up fortifications. Is it worth the risk to Lawrence to be his friend? Were both going to get burned, but if I were to walk away right now the prick would win, and I won’t let Father win, Lawrence is strong, he’ll handle himself. To have nights like this filled with passion, to drink and laugh, to fall asleep beside each other high and feeling no pain from the opium. I’m going mad and I just don’t care, I’ll live in the moment as they come, love or no, it doesn’t matter. Protect Thom, protect my people, fight that prick at any turn, I’ll make it worth it all in the end. In the end.

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Music: Trading Yesterday - Under my Skin

Drefan singing to Riq'ua

Slipknot - Snuff

Bury all your secrets in my skin
Come away with innocence, and leave me with my sins
The air around me still feels like a cage
And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage again

So if you love me, let me go
And run away before I know
My heart is just too dark to care
I can't destroy what isn't there.
Deliver me into my fate
If I'm alone I cannot hate
I don't deserve to have you
My smile was taken long ago
If I can change I hope I never know

I still press your letters to my lips
And cherish them in parts of me that savor every kiss
I couldn't face a life without your light
But all of that was ripped apart when you refused to fight

So save your breath, I will not hear
I think I made it very clear
You couldn't hate enough to love
Is that supposed to be enough?
I only wish you weren't my friend
Then I could hurt you in the end
I never claimed to be a saint
My own was banished long ago
It took the death of hope to let you go

So break yourself against my stones
And spit your pity in my soul
You never needed any help
You sold me out to save yourself
And I won't listen to your shame
You ran away, you're all the same
Angels lie to keep control
My love was punished long ago
If you still care, don't ever let me know
If you still care, don't ever let me know

Current Mood: artistic
Current Music: Slipknot - Snuff

Title: It took the Death of Hope to let you go...
Rating: (R)
Content Notes/Warnings: You couldn't hate enough to love, and you ripped me apart when you refused to fight.

A memory within a dream is a prelude to this, explaining Drefan and Riq'ua's relationship.

Drefan the antagonist in my novels had a long road to the day when he loses his mind which is told in Love is never gentle and Grief gives way to Hate This story is one of the steps that lead him toward insanity.

Warnings: Child Abuse, Violence

Main Character/s: Drefan Robert Royale, Riq'ua Riviria
Plot: Drefan finally tells Riq'ua why he is so scarred, so skittish, and hopes are crushed to dust when Riq'ua tells him he lies.
Location: illander castle, illander city.

--

Bloodied fists hang loosely by sides, eyes that brimmed with darkness; black pits slowly are turning back to the midnight blue.

What have I done?

The evidence is clear, Riq’ua lies in a pool of his own blood, and there had been barely any noise to give rise to what was going on in the Elven Lord’s bedchambers. Where once anger mixed with bitterness there was only confusion, despair and betrayal.

I trusted you! I gave you everything! I gave you my heart, you wear my soul in the black diamond around your throat and even after everything I would have given my body to you. I was willing to give you all of me, but you scorned me. You think I lied?! You asked me how I had such scars, rope burns around my throat and stigma marks through my hands, Hahahaha, you say I lied?!!
( Story Inside )

Current Mood: relieved
Current Music: Red - Watch you Crawl

Title: Love is never gentle, and Grief gives way to Hate.
Prompt: Grief
Rating: (Heavy PG-13)
Content Notes/Warnings: Ending of the First Novel, The Tragedy ends in a catastrophe and the scene that changed everything, for love can destroy far easier than it can create, and grief is but a precursor to hate.

Nathanial is of Reinn Anon (God of light's) blood line, Drefan and Thom are of Nanqa (God of darkness') bloodline. Naik'lea is the Goddess of Suffering.

Warnings: Death, Violence, Blood.

Main Character/s: Nathanial Peter Quele Royale, Thom Antsrev Royale, Drefan Robert Royale, Sir. Atrious
Plot: Drefan’s personification of his hopes and dreams dies, madness quickly follows, the Royal court is massacred and so begins the Age of Darkness.
Location: illander castle, illander city.

--

The Last Entry in the Journal

(There are small bloody fingerprints like those of a child on this entry, smeared by what looks to be the remnants of tears)

It is my tenth year.

And I am kneeling now by my beloved’s side, my husband sense the day of my birth, 6 years older then I and always smiling. Optimistic and sweet, kind and gentle, light among the darkness, he was my opposite Thom was. I was darkness born of a bloodline of light; he was light born of a bloodline of darkness. I am on the right side of the bed, Drefan on his left. There were chairs but that didn’t matter, we both knelt. We each held one of Thom’s hands in ours clasping the withered fingers, his body so gaunt now, and he coughed. He coughed blood. Like me. It was disease, Thom was dying of disease, and I knew, I knew it in my heart it was the disease Korian died of. Contagion, a necromantic spell that inflicts a disease on the target and the target had been Korian...So Thom was just a causality. He had to be, Drefan would never mean the death of his brother, I knew Thom was everything to the both of us.

Drefan’s hands grasp Thom’s left hand as tightly as I grasped Thom’s right and Drefan starred into the greying green orbs, so tired and nearly lost to us now. The infirmary in the castle was empty except for us, the clerics had cleared out, as there was nothing they could do for him now. They had left us to be with him in his final moments and I leaned down to Thom’s cheek and I nosed it. His eyes moved to me and I smiled for him and I whispered, “The Arch Angel Azreal will come and pick you up and bring you to a place where you can sleep for a long time. Where you won’t hurt anymore and you will have an easier time breathing.” I mimicked his voice as I relayed his words perfectly from my eidetic memory, of when Thom explained of death to me. It seemed so long ago, but it was only three years ago that I learned I would die young. And yet in the end, I lived as Thom died, was this a punishment for my sins?

( More Writing Inside )

Current Mood: impressed
Current Music: 10 Years - Actions and Motives

Tear Tarnished Angel

Musings

[novels] unrepentant hopes chapter 4 - first draft

[novels] unrepentant hopes chapter 3 - first draft

[Novel Drabble: Dead end wishes

[novels] Aidna - writing and planning

[Novels] Post Novels - Black Roses

[novel drabble] a smaller ending [during Book 2]

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

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

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

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

[Novel] Drabble: We are Loyal and We are Honorable - Royalians

[Novel] Notes - Camar'a's military oppression of Royale and Drefan's loss of himself

[Novel] Notes - New additions and relative story arc in summery form

[Novel] Nathanial's inner thoughts post Scourge War (I Will Try)

[Novel]Admitting fault and Carrying on. Part 2/2.

[Novel]Admitting fault and Carrying on. Part 1 of 2.

[OrigFic] Almost (Injury)

[Novel] To accompany It took the Death of Hope to let you go...

[Novel] It took the Death of Hope to let you go...

[OrigFic] Love is never gentle and Grief gives way to Hate (Grief)

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