Post by Raven on Sept 12, 2022 15:44:38 GMT -5
Princess Elara Alestair
King Cane Alestair
Queen Sophique (Redstone) Alestair
Prince Cane Alestair II (Middle, Heir to the Throne, 17)
Princess Melenae Alestair (Youngest, 12)
Continent of Southern Swells
Kingdom of Greymoore, Greymoore Castle rests in the city of Port-Moore, on the coast of the Sapphire Sea, East coast of Southern Swells.
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It was the day the first leaf of the Elderly Ashen tree turned an obscure orange and fell from her limb. Only a fortnite away before autumn would be upon the Kingdom of Greymoore. This would mean the great Autumn festival would be underway, and yet again it would become an opportunity to wed their Eldest daughter Princess Elara. She was over age and reluctant, as the entire Kingdom might whisper continously of. An independant woman who would sooner remain home, untouched, if she could. It was only her mother who protected her so, as many would call her a hovering-eagle, unwilling to allow the Daughter's wings to flutter. The same whisperings would traverse among the people on the night of the opening ball.
The Princess would come down from the banister, winding down the elaborate carved stairs to the center platform. People made way for her clicking heels. A pure white dress with dove feathers woven into the fabric gave her the presence of an angel herself. Many's eyes would widen, lips would drop, jaws locking - a lustful crave lingering in the air above. To break the silence the music would begin from the far corner of the huge room. Many gripping the hands of their partner and the dance would begin. It was a dance that seemed an endless lifetime, from one to another.
Kind words, political smiles, an exchange of nothings. Not a soul would truly speak to the Princess in a manner that mattered. Her only saving grace would be her family, a sister and brother who would scoop her away to dance. She would lean into her brother's shoulder, tempting for a moment of air from the toxic heat of her suitors.
"You are exhausted, sister" Prince Cane spoke to her, his blue eyes locking with her. He had ashy blond hair, combed neatly and kept. He was only 17 years of age, her youngest sister only 12. While she was several years older, well over her age of wed, and even more so birth. Many of those of her age had already two to three children.
"Entirely too much so, my brother" her voice was soft, as if it was choked back in the far reaches of her throat. There was yet a crispness to it, pronunciation of training as a royal.
"You do know that if you do not wed soon - father will be forced to send you to serve the Temple as a Maiden..." Cane's words were hushed as they pivoted in the dance, he swung her outward and she came back to his hands.
"I know" she spoke plainly, her dull eyes fighting past his gaze. She peered behind him, to her mother and father who sat upon two large glorified chairs. They were surrounded by a few nobles, a perplexed face cross over the King's.
The song came to an end and the Princess's hands fell from her brother and she found herself swindled into the next. The night came to its unevitable end, and she stood in the large Eastern tower of the castle. Her palms upon the balcony of her room, peering out over the bustling city that never slept. Lights flickering in the city like sparkling stars, small flames lining the city streets, and bustling feet over the cobbled pathway.
She heard the heavy door of her room open and she turned her gaze. "Sir William?" she questioned, the guard that always stood her door.
"My lady Princess" a voice came, soothing as a snake over the cusp of her ear. A warm breath played over her neck as a light kiss was pressed over her skin.
The Princess turned swiftly and she swat away the hand that groped her. A forceful response was provided and she was pinned back against the railing of her balcony. She went to scream - but her mouth was covered. All she could taste was the salty rough skin of a bare hand over her lips.
The earth rumbled slightly with her thrashing. The screeching of fabric ripping cascade over her ears, she could hear nothing but the struggling over her body against this unknown man. She thrust her head away and turned her gaze. When she peered to him finally - able to see - his eyes bled. Streams of blood leaking from his lashes. His nose bust, blood from his ears - his body quaked with the earth itself. Winds picked up, and a static filled her essence. She sucked in a breath and suddenly the man was no more.
A splattering of blood exploded from this being across her dress. It was as if a pail of red paint splashed over her, covering her from head to toe. Only speckles of white from her dove dress peaked through the etching of horror about her body. She shook from the moment and the castle rumbled.
What happened next was just a flash. Rushing winds pushed about her body, her braided and coiled white hair became raveled before her as she plummeted for the ground. She drew in a single breath, her eyes peering to the clouds above. The moon sung to her, the shadow that drew about her washed away by the lunar touch of the being. She shut her eyes and landed softly upon the ground, against all physical nature that called for her death. She shattered reality with the will and wish, upon the great moon that called to her.
Archmage,
It is to my regrettable decision that I must place my daughter in your ultimate care. We expected the revelation of our ancestry to fall upon my youngest, Melenae. It has been found that Princess Elara has awoken the greatest of gifts, which often experiences a multiple generational leap. Signs of such a gift, as you may know, come in earlier stages. This one has woken due to a unfortunate and traumatic event. It sickens me to know such a thing has happened, but the result of her awakening resulted in a partial destruction of Castle Greymoore, and countless deaths.
She appears to be in a state of relative shock, I dare not fathom what may be stirring under the thin viel of her conscious. If I could have sent her in a better state - you know that I would have. We both know, however, the danger of prolonging this needed tendership.
Please take my daughter and mold her to be a great mage that she was born to be. Know that the Circle will be wealthily supplied on a per month basis, as payment for her care. As a good friend of mine - I know she is in good hands.
Let us meet soon and convene. For now, she is bound for the Circle immediately. She should arrive upon the new Lightning moon.
Signed,
King Crane Alestair of Greymoore, the Peacekeeper and Allegiant.
***
"M'lady Princess, you should return to your suite. We are nearly there" there was clanking of boots upon a wooden surface. The smell of salt crossed the winds which pelted her fragile face. Her eyes were soft, a hint of despair lingering in the far reaches of the darkness of her hues. She peered over her shoulder to the same Knight that had protected her for ages, it seemed. The winds tugged on the loose white blouse that fluttered about slightly, a belt synched over her waist. She wore a more simple attire, fitting for travel. A pair of perfectly sewn leather pants and eloquent boots, though she maintained her womanly present with bare shoulders, exposing a her gentle frame and powerful collarbones. Endowed and supple - she was quite the woman, as many had pined for. Her hair was braided in many small laces, which came together atop her head in an intricate bun, white as the sea foam upon the beaches. A single silver pin was pressed into her hair - a small carved sparrow, that of her family crest.
"I rather it here" she responded as she peered from the bow of a rather large ship. Above were taught sails, bound to three large masts along the middle line of the ship. She gripped the wooden smooth rail which kept her from teetering into the dark ocean below. The lapping waves were hardly a threat to the massive boat which cut through the sea like a freshly crafted blade.
"Very well" Sir William stepped up next to her. He drew in a long breath and took in the silence with her. Though as they grew closer to the lands - a silhouette outlined miles away. A huge tower pierced the sky, its details still muddied by the fog of distance. Mountain scape carved even further still. Though the crowing of seagulls danced with the lullaby of the sea. For a moment - a small smile crept over the lips of the Princess. Sir William glanced to peer to it, but he quickly hid his gaze, so that she would continue.
"I suppose..." she broke the silence. "I finally got what I wanted" she offered a broken chuckle.
"What is that, my lady?"
"Freedom" her fingers finally released their white-knuckled grip over the rail. "Today - I am not longer Princess Alestair. I am rather... Elara Redstone, hailing from the Peaks of Novair..." she smirked.
"Is that your tale?" Sir William questioned, with a slightly larger grin plastered over his stubbled face.
"Aye" she broke her royal tone and rubbed her hands together. "Let us get my things then" she spoke and trailed off to the two doors that led to the main suite of the ship. She of course did not bunk below the deck, this would be her final time to be as royal as could be. So, she received the Captains Quarters, as per demand of the King.
The ship docked and tied off swiftly at the docks, once arrived and the Princess stepped to the deck with two bags in hand. Sir William, in his full set of metal armor, held two more bags within his own hands. They were quite large, full of clothing and whatever gadgets she would bring, all heavier than the last.
"Your welcome is expected, we shall wait for the escort arrival" Sir William spoke as they made their way to the steps that came down to the deck.
"Do you think they are late?" she questioned as she peered to the few that walked about the docks.
"Well, we will have to be patient. Only Royalty may expect immediate presentation.." he chuckled slightly.
"Right" The Princess nodded, her curious eyes looking about to the rag tag folk that tended the docks... It was all too beautiful of a day. It had been a week since the incident, one that was a foggy memory in her mind. Though, since she could feel this swelling chaos within. It would react to her emotions - and she would force herself to breath when it drew upon her. It was like a constant tension - pulling from outward and within, and the only thing holding it in place was her soul. How soon before it would break again?
Sometimes all it took was the shift of the wind for her to feel it stir within. The blue skies called for such a gust, the sea enticing the breeze over her body. Her eyes - blue with golden flakes within caught the gaze of the clouds above. The flying eagle in the distance. The tower so far away. A place she had never seen... the smell of fish on the portside, another ship that docked and bustling feet moved crates about. All the while she stood patiently with her guardian, awaiting the next adventure.
King Cane Alestair
Queen Sophique (Redstone) Alestair
Prince Cane Alestair II (Middle, Heir to the Throne, 17)
Princess Melenae Alestair (Youngest, 12)
Continent of Southern Swells
Kingdom of Greymoore, Greymoore Castle rests in the city of Port-Moore, on the coast of the Sapphire Sea, East coast of Southern Swells.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was the day the first leaf of the Elderly Ashen tree turned an obscure orange and fell from her limb. Only a fortnite away before autumn would be upon the Kingdom of Greymoore. This would mean the great Autumn festival would be underway, and yet again it would become an opportunity to wed their Eldest daughter Princess Elara. She was over age and reluctant, as the entire Kingdom might whisper continously of. An independant woman who would sooner remain home, untouched, if she could. It was only her mother who protected her so, as many would call her a hovering-eagle, unwilling to allow the Daughter's wings to flutter. The same whisperings would traverse among the people on the night of the opening ball.
The Princess would come down from the banister, winding down the elaborate carved stairs to the center platform. People made way for her clicking heels. A pure white dress with dove feathers woven into the fabric gave her the presence of an angel herself. Many's eyes would widen, lips would drop, jaws locking - a lustful crave lingering in the air above. To break the silence the music would begin from the far corner of the huge room. Many gripping the hands of their partner and the dance would begin. It was a dance that seemed an endless lifetime, from one to another.
Kind words, political smiles, an exchange of nothings. Not a soul would truly speak to the Princess in a manner that mattered. Her only saving grace would be her family, a sister and brother who would scoop her away to dance. She would lean into her brother's shoulder, tempting for a moment of air from the toxic heat of her suitors.
"You are exhausted, sister" Prince Cane spoke to her, his blue eyes locking with her. He had ashy blond hair, combed neatly and kept. He was only 17 years of age, her youngest sister only 12. While she was several years older, well over her age of wed, and even more so birth. Many of those of her age had already two to three children.
"Entirely too much so, my brother" her voice was soft, as if it was choked back in the far reaches of her throat. There was yet a crispness to it, pronunciation of training as a royal.
"You do know that if you do not wed soon - father will be forced to send you to serve the Temple as a Maiden..." Cane's words were hushed as they pivoted in the dance, he swung her outward and she came back to his hands.
"I know" she spoke plainly, her dull eyes fighting past his gaze. She peered behind him, to her mother and father who sat upon two large glorified chairs. They were surrounded by a few nobles, a perplexed face cross over the King's.
The song came to an end and the Princess's hands fell from her brother and she found herself swindled into the next. The night came to its unevitable end, and she stood in the large Eastern tower of the castle. Her palms upon the balcony of her room, peering out over the bustling city that never slept. Lights flickering in the city like sparkling stars, small flames lining the city streets, and bustling feet over the cobbled pathway.
She heard the heavy door of her room open and she turned her gaze. "Sir William?" she questioned, the guard that always stood her door.
"My lady Princess" a voice came, soothing as a snake over the cusp of her ear. A warm breath played over her neck as a light kiss was pressed over her skin.
The Princess turned swiftly and she swat away the hand that groped her. A forceful response was provided and she was pinned back against the railing of her balcony. She went to scream - but her mouth was covered. All she could taste was the salty rough skin of a bare hand over her lips.
The earth rumbled slightly with her thrashing. The screeching of fabric ripping cascade over her ears, she could hear nothing but the struggling over her body against this unknown man. She thrust her head away and turned her gaze. When she peered to him finally - able to see - his eyes bled. Streams of blood leaking from his lashes. His nose bust, blood from his ears - his body quaked with the earth itself. Winds picked up, and a static filled her essence. She sucked in a breath and suddenly the man was no more.
A splattering of blood exploded from this being across her dress. It was as if a pail of red paint splashed over her, covering her from head to toe. Only speckles of white from her dove dress peaked through the etching of horror about her body. She shook from the moment and the castle rumbled.
What happened next was just a flash. Rushing winds pushed about her body, her braided and coiled white hair became raveled before her as she plummeted for the ground. She drew in a single breath, her eyes peering to the clouds above. The moon sung to her, the shadow that drew about her washed away by the lunar touch of the being. She shut her eyes and landed softly upon the ground, against all physical nature that called for her death. She shattered reality with the will and wish, upon the great moon that called to her.
Archmage,
It is to my regrettable decision that I must place my daughter in your ultimate care. We expected the revelation of our ancestry to fall upon my youngest, Melenae. It has been found that Princess Elara has awoken the greatest of gifts, which often experiences a multiple generational leap. Signs of such a gift, as you may know, come in earlier stages. This one has woken due to a unfortunate and traumatic event. It sickens me to know such a thing has happened, but the result of her awakening resulted in a partial destruction of Castle Greymoore, and countless deaths.
She appears to be in a state of relative shock, I dare not fathom what may be stirring under the thin viel of her conscious. If I could have sent her in a better state - you know that I would have. We both know, however, the danger of prolonging this needed tendership.
Please take my daughter and mold her to be a great mage that she was born to be. Know that the Circle will be wealthily supplied on a per month basis, as payment for her care. As a good friend of mine - I know she is in good hands.
Let us meet soon and convene. For now, she is bound for the Circle immediately. She should arrive upon the new Lightning moon.
Signed,
King Crane Alestair of Greymoore, the Peacekeeper and Allegiant.
***
"M'lady Princess, you should return to your suite. We are nearly there" there was clanking of boots upon a wooden surface. The smell of salt crossed the winds which pelted her fragile face. Her eyes were soft, a hint of despair lingering in the far reaches of the darkness of her hues. She peered over her shoulder to the same Knight that had protected her for ages, it seemed. The winds tugged on the loose white blouse that fluttered about slightly, a belt synched over her waist. She wore a more simple attire, fitting for travel. A pair of perfectly sewn leather pants and eloquent boots, though she maintained her womanly present with bare shoulders, exposing a her gentle frame and powerful collarbones. Endowed and supple - she was quite the woman, as many had pined for. Her hair was braided in many small laces, which came together atop her head in an intricate bun, white as the sea foam upon the beaches. A single silver pin was pressed into her hair - a small carved sparrow, that of her family crest.
"I rather it here" she responded as she peered from the bow of a rather large ship. Above were taught sails, bound to three large masts along the middle line of the ship. She gripped the wooden smooth rail which kept her from teetering into the dark ocean below. The lapping waves were hardly a threat to the massive boat which cut through the sea like a freshly crafted blade.
"Very well" Sir William stepped up next to her. He drew in a long breath and took in the silence with her. Though as they grew closer to the lands - a silhouette outlined miles away. A huge tower pierced the sky, its details still muddied by the fog of distance. Mountain scape carved even further still. Though the crowing of seagulls danced with the lullaby of the sea. For a moment - a small smile crept over the lips of the Princess. Sir William glanced to peer to it, but he quickly hid his gaze, so that she would continue.
"I suppose..." she broke the silence. "I finally got what I wanted" she offered a broken chuckle.
"What is that, my lady?"
"Freedom" her fingers finally released their white-knuckled grip over the rail. "Today - I am not longer Princess Alestair. I am rather... Elara Redstone, hailing from the Peaks of Novair..." she smirked.
"Is that your tale?" Sir William questioned, with a slightly larger grin plastered over his stubbled face.
"Aye" she broke her royal tone and rubbed her hands together. "Let us get my things then" she spoke and trailed off to the two doors that led to the main suite of the ship. She of course did not bunk below the deck, this would be her final time to be as royal as could be. So, she received the Captains Quarters, as per demand of the King.
The ship docked and tied off swiftly at the docks, once arrived and the Princess stepped to the deck with two bags in hand. Sir William, in his full set of metal armor, held two more bags within his own hands. They were quite large, full of clothing and whatever gadgets she would bring, all heavier than the last.
"Your welcome is expected, we shall wait for the escort arrival" Sir William spoke as they made their way to the steps that came down to the deck.
"Do you think they are late?" she questioned as she peered to the few that walked about the docks.
"Well, we will have to be patient. Only Royalty may expect immediate presentation.." he chuckled slightly.
"Right" The Princess nodded, her curious eyes looking about to the rag tag folk that tended the docks... It was all too beautiful of a day. It had been a week since the incident, one that was a foggy memory in her mind. Though, since she could feel this swelling chaos within. It would react to her emotions - and she would force herself to breath when it drew upon her. It was like a constant tension - pulling from outward and within, and the only thing holding it in place was her soul. How soon before it would break again?
Sometimes all it took was the shift of the wind for her to feel it stir within. The blue skies called for such a gust, the sea enticing the breeze over her body. Her eyes - blue with golden flakes within caught the gaze of the clouds above. The flying eagle in the distance. The tower so far away. A place she had never seen... the smell of fish on the portside, another ship that docked and bustling feet moved crates about. All the while she stood patiently with her guardian, awaiting the next adventure.
