Dear Rosey
It’s nice to finally send you a letter again. The past many months without contacting you have been harsh. I won’t go into all the details, simply because the less I think of my mother and father the better I feel. It also makes her feel more distant, and I need that distance from it all at this moment. Still, I want to let you know that physically I am alrighty, and am currently in Pierzé. It is being here, in this city, that I said you a message.
I only wish that the reason for my letter was to finally return to our usual talks, but I have a confession to make: I broke that promise I made to you. The promise that I wouldn’t peer into your life, that I would not use the historia to evade your privacy. I got lonely, and in my loneliness my curiosity got the better of me. I know you are Princess Susanna of Reine. I won’t stop you from feeling betrayed, but as the disowned daughter of Ramos and Elena Perciple I need you to listen to what I have to say.
With the northern blockade having held up for years now, they're going to try and press their luck. Pierzé is their next target, I can guarantee it. They’ll land troops on the northern coast and march through the Nalendel Province to reach it. Pierzé must be reinforced, as does the Razia province for safe measures. It would not be unlikely of them to try and assault both at once as a means to try and make your forces spread thin. You don’t have to like me, knowing now who I once was, but please don’t be a fool.
For the sake of your country, and the freedom it represents, ready yourselves.
Your old friend
Lilac ‘Natalie’ Krauss.
P.S. I happened to meet the Vessel of Death and a Numaran on my way to Pierzé. They are heading your direction. See to it they don’t get killed.
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“You think she’ll listen?” Teolus asked Lilac as she finished writing and rolled the letter up. She had already stamped it, Jasper providing the church’s seal to make sure Princess Susanna knew it was real. “It has been many months. I’m not sure how well she’ll take this.”
After she had finished talking with Jasper, Lilac had been given a room in the monastery’s upler floor to use. She had spent the better part of the last half hour carefully writing a letter to Princess Susanna. As he always did, Teolus watched her write with intrigue and curiosity. Lilac couldn’t help but find the action rather adorable and decently amusing. She couldn’t focus on her amusement of the hawk, however. There were more important matters to attend to.
“She’s a princess, and likely to soon be queen if her father’s ‘sickness’ gets him,” Lilac replied, tying up the letter with twine and placing it on the desk. “I still can’t believe she would do that to King Sullivan.”
“Oh sure. It is so hard to believe, especially considering what you’ ve done,” Il’jan’i responded sarcastically. Lilac winced at what sounded like a heavy combination of mocking and annoyance. “You seem to have forgotten what and who you are. Doesn’t matter if you change your name, for it is only a social construct of your mortals. Deep down, you are a murderous monster, and you enjoy that.”
“What you talk about is a product of horrible parents. None of what I did was my fault,” Lilac quickly replied, glaring at the wall as if the beast inside her stood before it. Teolus hopped back a bit in fear. “Brunell wasn’t my fault. The harpen who were executed weren't my fault.”
“And Kal–“
“You do not say that mistake's name!” Lilac shouted.
Near immediately she felt a satisfied grin creep up Il’jan’i’s face, and Lilac knew she had slipped. Scared of herself, she tried to step away from what she feared most. Unfortunately her body followed her command, giving her a reminder that she couldn’t leave it. Il’jan’i corpses in her mind, enjoying seeing the true Lilac. Even if it was only for a moment, it was all she had needed to feel content.
“My my, it seems the beastkin’s words meant nothing. You still see them as impure – as “not right” like your mom and dad always put it,” Il’jan’i said through mad laughter. She could already feel the tension and terror within her vessel grow. “It seems all this talk of becoming better was just an excuse to trade violent hatred for one more… subtle.”
“Y-you lie. I’ve meant it and you know that,” Lilac stuttered, spinning around to look at a barely filled bookcase behind her. Her mind looked for any reason it could find to prove the dragon wrong. “I… I mis-stepped. You can’t just expect me to take everything they say as true. Besides, who is to say she isn’t trying to turn me into one of those people or… or…”
If the way Il’jan’i’s laughter rose didn’t make it clear she was failing, her inability to back herself up did. All of what she had just spoken was how she felt, even if a part of her mind denied it. Even worse she did truly want to be better, but something about herself refused to change. She feared what that was, and her oracle loved it. In fact, Il’jan’i loved it to the point she was more than willing to spell it out for her vessel.
“Face it, my vessel, you miss those good old times when we could devour and slay any prisoners set before us,” Il’jan’i said replied. She could feel Lilac’s heavy breathing and increased heart rate, which only made her more sure she was doing something right. “Perhaps you do care, deep down, but we know there is one thing keeping you from ever moving forward. If it is so hard, why not give up on these endeavors and become what you really are deep down.”
“I… I can’t,” Lilac muttered, holding herself in a hug as she backed up as much as possible. It didn’t get her farther from the beast that lay inside of her, but it made her feel like she had some control. “I won’t let the monster mom and dad make out. That isn’t the real me; I don’t want it to be the real me.”
“They may have encouraged it, but each kill was your own. The enjoyment was also not their creation, or are you saying that smile you had on your face when your brother died wasn’t real?” Il’jan’i asked, her question cutting deep at Lilac’s heart. It was working, the oracle knew it. “Come on, my vessel, let go of this terrible mask you put on. I want to see the real you again. I want to maim again, don’t you?”
Lilac’s arms dropped to her side, her eyes catching Teolus taking a careful step away. Something about Il’jan’i’s words had sunk in in a way they hadn’t before, the light and hope in her eyes draining away. She had seen with the deathwisher, Soliene, and now Jasper. The only ones who had been kind to her were Am’a’ros and Nyal, and the latter was a rather naive hen. Perhaps Il’jan’i was right.
No one wanted her around.
“Whatever she tells Reonda, she wrong!” Teolus said. Lilac didn’t pay attention to the words despite acknowledging his voice. “Wrong good person! Just doesn’t understand how to–“
“Teolus, take the letter and leave,” Lilac commanded. Her cold tone froze up the hawk, the bird watching her as she pointed out the window. “Never come back. It’s not worth it, and you’ll get hurt.”
“R-R-Reonda?” the hawk cawed. Lilac’s gaze hardened, and Teolus drooped his head in sadness. “Okay. Goodbye, Reonda.”
Grabbing the letter in his claws as he took off, Teolus left through the window he had been pointed at. Lilac could feel Il’jan’i’s smile falter slightly, and that caused her to grin. She knew the dragon wanted her to kill him, and in a show of control she had denied them that. Turning away and walking to the door, she contemplated her decision for a moment. Lilac nodded, and she steeled herself for the gamble she was planning.
“We still got a message of our own to bring to Lady Calamity, but after that we’ll have some fun,” She said to the oracle, emotion gone from her voice. “After that, we’ll head to the nearest port town. That blockade stood long enough.”
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“The blockade? Certainly a lot of blood to be shed in the northern sea, but not what I had expected,” Il’jan’i admitted, its sounding far less crazed then usual and more intrigued. “Might I ask what it is you are planning?”
Lilac let a devious smile form on her face, the slightest hint of insanity lying in her eyes. “You can’t tell? I’m gonna make everyone happy, and that means ripping those ships and their personnel to shreds.”
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“So you stole all of this?!” Nyal shouted, looking at the supplies Soliene had “purchased” for their journey to Barborassa. “You are way better at this thieving business then you should be.”
“Yeah, I’m aware, but if you live on the streets for half a year you learn to work with what you can,” Soliene explained as she wrapped nearly everything before her back up. “We don’t have Lilac’s hunting talent with us, so making sure we got the food to get us to the next town is kind of important.”
While Nyal didn’t like having to steal, she understood that it was a necessity at this point. They didn’t have the money to do otherwise, having also left by leaving Lilac behind. It would be a far harder road to the capital, even if the journey wouldn’t take as long as it had to get to Pierzè. Soliene had answered by somehow managing to secure a small fortune of food and some tools for self-defense. All now escorted out of the city gates without any suspicion.
Nyal stomped the ground, listening and feeling the clink of metal that was now attached to them. She didn’t know much about harparen weaponry, so when Soliene had shown up with a set of talon-shaped blades she hadn’t realized what they were. She had put them on and, while a bit oversized, didn’t feel horribly restrictive. It felt nice and kind of odd.
“Intriguing. Since harpen don’t have the ability to easily use daggers this must be your kind answer to them,” Pho’nix’ea said as Nyal rhythmically hopped up and down to get us to the sound and weight of them. “Considering the lack of Aeris in your kind this cycle, it makes sense that your weapons would be so different. Harpen talons are already sharper compared to other avians, so making them more deadly makes sense.”
“Aeris?” Nyal asked the phoenix.
“If I’m correct, it seems that Harpen of previous cycles could manipulate the oxygen and, by extension, the air. They called that Aeris,” Pho said, a hint of doubt in her words. “It’s odd. I shouldn’t know that. We Oracles aren’t supposed to know anything about the cycles before us, so why do I know this?”
“Perhaps we can ask Calamity when we come back from Barborasa,” Nyal suggested, eyes looking up at the sky. Her eyes caught onto the form of a hawk flying into the distance. “I’m just happy I’m able to help Soliene reunite with her father right now, but I don’t really know what to do afterwards. Finding mom and dad by myself will be near impossible.”
“We’ll save them, don’t worry,” Pho’nix’ea reassured the harpen.
Nyal gave a nod as she looked back to Soliene, finding the Numaran taking a few test swings of a knife she had taken. There was a frown on her face, the knife seeming to always aim a little off from where she wanted it to be. Still, she sheathed it and put it under her clothes where none wouldn’t be aware of it but her. She grabbed the other goods she had stolen and lifted it up, smirking at her harpen companion as she did.
“We should get going. There is gonna be a lot of ground to cover and the sooner we start, the better,” Soliene explained, glancing briefly at the sack of food and her clothing. “Especially considering I’m kind of in deep trouble when my thefts are discovered.”
“Okay, but before we head out I want to ask Pho one more thing,” Nyal replied. When she got a nod from Soliene to go ahead, her eyes stared into the distance. “Pho, can you walk for some time? I kind of need a rest with me doing the majority of the walking here.”
“Of course,” the phoenix replied. Nyal allowed herself to be consumed by flames once again, switching places with Pho. The first thing she saw was a startled Soliene. “Apologies. I hope you don’t mind traveling with me for some time.”
“No. I guess not,” the Numaran replied. She hid away the fact seeing the oracle upset her, because she had no idea what was causing it. “Let us be off then!”
Pho took the lead, remembering the directions they needed to head thanks to Nyal’s memories. They had only made it a couple of yards when the sound of a bell brought their attention back to Pierzé. They listened to it chime, going well past the time of day and seeming to never stop. Then, Hel started to act up, the sentient tail seeming to lash out in the direction they had been heading. None of them had ever seen it act like that, but Pho’nix’ea had a decent idea of why it was all happening.
“Someone important has died. Maybe not this moment, but recently,” the oracle stated.
“Truly?” Soliene asked. She received a nod as her answer. “Do you know who it is?”
“I do not, but we should be careful,” Pho replied, turning away from the holy city and back to the Numaran. “It could be of old age, or it could be something a lot worse. We need to be careful, because we can’t be sure it is the former.” She stared into the distance, heart beating fast in fear. “Especially since, if I am correct, it is in the direction of the capital.”
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Within Castle Eliease, which sat above the city of Barborasa, a young princess of sixteen years of age watched the world go by from out her window. If it hadn’t been for her sibling’s seemingly endless lack of luck staying alive, she would have been married off long ago. Instead she was kept around, named the first female successor to the throne in many years, and taught everything she needed to in order to rule. The Dukes hadn’t been happy about it, but she was the lone survivor of that generation of royal children. Her father didn’t trust to give the Dukes the power, fearing the power struggle it might cause and the competency of the current generation of dukes. She saw it as one of the few things he had done right.
A music box was playing a militaristic melody, a gift she had received from a friend she had not heard from in over half a year. A friend who, if anyone found out their origins, would cause the citizens to lack respect for her. She knew only that they were from Acamus and that they possessed a book of immense power, and both of those made befriending them a priority for when she came to rule. The last thing she wanted was a psychotic, godly beast as an enemy, and they would be far more useful as an ally then they would be dead. That was to say nothing of the amount of lives likely needed to kill an oracle, and the dead attempting such a thing would leave in its wake.
From out her window she could see knights and soldiers training, more than aware that she could watch them from where she slept. While it wasn’t her main focus, she always kept tabs on them to make sure they were proving to be what they rightfully should be: defenders of the crown and the people. Trips to the duke's provinces had made it clear that said role had been lost, knights pushing around citizenry and those who were supposed to be in charge purposefully neglecting to discipline the guilty. No wonder they had lost the northern sea, and no wonder New Numar had managed to make such a wound in their eastern side, if the army was this competent.
That had to be changed, but what could she do as a princess with no power?
Her answer came as a knock came from her door. She walked over and stopped the music box, giving a brief smile at the device before her expression became stone. She turned to the door, straightened her posture, cleared her throat before speaking up.
“You may enter, Silvester,” She said.
She watched as a man in his late forties, the hair on his head thinning. He looked older than he was, a lifetime of working for the royal family – and herself more specifically – having done more bad to his looks then good. Still, there were smile lines beneath his cheeks, showing that while a lot may have been asked of him he certainly did enjoy what he did, even if right now he was frowning. Something she contributed to her treatment of the man and the respect she had gained in the past year and a half. Something else she had to thank her Acamian friend for if they ever had the opportunity to contact her again.
“Why do you look so glum, Silvester?” the princess asked.
“Princess Susanna, I’m afraid that… your father will not be awakening from his illness,” Silvester Ruse replied. Susanna’s stoic mask fell at the words, jaw hanging just slightly open and eyes going wide. “He has passed away.”
For a time, Susanna stood there in silence, the stone that once held her expression in check having encased her body. When she finally managed to pick her jaw back up her eyes fell on the ground and her head hung limp. Breaking free of the metaphorical stone encasing her body, Susanna turned back to the window and walked towards it. With Silvester unable to see her expression, she smirked. What had once been a wish to not be married off had turned into ambition, and with her fathers unfortunate death that ambition was free to run wild.
“Th-thank you, Silverster,” Susanna said, her voice mimicking sadness so that she could properly fool anyone who overheard them. She felt no regret for doing so. “I… I need some time. Leave me be for right now.”
“Of course… King Susanna,” He replied, title chosen both to stroke his charge’s ego and tell her he knew her true feelings.
The door closed behind her, and Susanna closed her eyes as she hung her head lower. All would believe she was currently grieving, and that would allow her to be uninterrupted as she celebrated. Opening her eyes, she cackled to herself and returned to the music box, starting it back up. She did a spin, the euphoria she was currently feeling at having all of Reine under her control uncontainable. Another spin as she thought of what she would do to the dukes, who she knew would oppose her at every turn. They too would fall victim to unfortunate illnesses and accidents much like her father had, and a more useful group of families would take their place… if she wanted to keep the current system around, that is.
“Oh general, your poison worked perfectly,” She muttered to herself as she danced around her room. She did not care that the man she was saying this all too wasn’t present, for she was too happy to care. “As promised, I’ll see to it that your rather unagreeable nation is made to be more agreeable, and once a couple of dukes are put in place I’ll see to it you need not worry for your own skin.”
With one last spin, the back of her leg touched her bed and she plopped down on it. Her body felt free, something she had never felt before in her entire life. Even as she was named heir to the throne, there was always that lingering fear that one of the dukes would find some way to remove her from the succession line. Her father being dead removed that fear, and made her ascension to King of Reine inevitable. Granted she would prefer the title of Queen, but that title had held zero power for a long time.
“A lady given the title of king,” She said to herself. “Absolutely wonderful.”