On the battlefield, fire and smoke filled the air. The lush grass transformed from a bright green to a morbid ruby red. The war cries of men echoed from all sides. The duel between the two leaders unfolded, their swords clashing in the air emitting pounding vibrations stronger than an earthquake. Lisav’s strength was unmatched, the king couldn't deny that. But his determination to protect his people was significantly stronger. So the king pressed on with a focused mind, each strike aiming to end his foe’s reign. And triumphant he was, as a single mighty stroke of his sword brought an end to the battle. Lisav, drained and exhausted, crumpled to the ground, leaving the King holding the precious aura crystal in his hands.
In Lisav's final breath, a defiant whisper reached The King's ears, "I will never die. I will outlive you and your silly prophecy."
Then the aura crystal pulsated with power, emitting a blue glow that engulfed the world for just a second, sealing Lisav inside. With Lisav defeated, the reign of terror came to an end, but not before The King had proven himself as a true and victorious ruler.
Ethria jolted upright in her bed, gasping for breath after the vivid nightmare had left her heart pounding and her mind shrouded with visions of the gruesome war.
“Fuck, again with the same dream,” She thought, rubbing her groggy eyes.
Her usual perfectly coiled locs, now tangled in a ropey mess. Her deep brown gaze swept across the brightly lit and elegant room. The large two paned window near her closet was open, sweeping in a warm breeze. Giving her room the scent of freshly picked flowers. Such a tranquil scene to wake up to. Gradually, she calmed herself, her breaths slowing to a steady rhythm. Just as she was about to lie back down, a soft knock on the door disrupted the stillness. Jumpstarting her usual routine, though Ethria couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
"It's alright, Matilda," she reassured in a whisper. "You can come in..."
Matilda, her personal maid she has known since birth entered the chamber. Ethria welcomed her with a grateful smile. Her teeth, resembling that of a rabbit, but so does every other part of her. Inside and out. Matilda wore a modest purple gown that harmonized with her deep skin and long bouncy hair.
"Good morning, Your Highness," Matilda greeted with a deep curtsy. "I hope I didn't disturb you. I heard whispering and wanted to make sure everything was alright."
Ethria nodded, taking a deep breath. "I had that nightmare again, Matilda," she admitted. "Nothing serious though. But thank you for your concern."
Matilda, her expression serious, inquired, "I’m deeply sorry m’lady, would you like to talk about it...now?"
Ethria hadn’t told a soul about the contents of her dreams. There was not much concern in her mind. But today marks a month of those recurring dreams, and each day her consternation grows stronger.
Ethria shook her head. "No, but thank you. I just need a moment to gather myself. Could you start my morning routine?"
Matilda nodded warmly, but still quite worried. "Of course, m’lady. I'll inform the cook to prepare your breakfast. And I'll have your clothes ready for you when you're ready to change."
Ethria expressed her gratitude with a smile. "Thank you, Matilda. You're a godsend."
Matilda bowed, then gracefully exited the room, closing the door behind her. Ethria took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for the day ahead. Uncertain of what that may be anyways.
King Arnos Aragon sat high at the head of the table, a stern look etched on his face. His forehead was deep with ridges, and his emerald eyes always had a faint determined gleam.
Queen Katara Aragon sat to his left. Her deep brown eyes fixed on her husband lovingly. Her delicate fingers lay cordially on the burnished table surface, patiently waiting for the breakfast feast. Marcus, Arnos' right-hand man, stood behind his chair, arms folded across his chest. He was quite the toady man, kind of looked like one too, according to some. Wherever Arnos was, Marcus would be just a few feet away.
Ethria, still dressed in the same clothes from the morning, rushed to the table, sensing the weight of her parents' judgment. As she sat down, the cooks entered, placing plates of warm, freshly cooked food at the center of the table. Various different cuisines enticed her. The heavenly scent elicited a hungry growl from Ethria’s stomach and a big smile on her lips.
Arnos, his throat clearing, narrowed his eyes as he focused on his daughter. "Ethria," he declared firmly. "You're late. Are you struggling to manage your time?"
Ethria winced, heat rising to her cheeks. She knew her father held high expectations, and she was determined to meet them.
"I'm sorry, father," she stammered. "I had some um...homework that needed to be completed before breakfast... yeah!"
"Homework?" Arnos scoffed. "Is that really more important than your family?"
Katara's grip tightened on her fork, and she turned to her husband. "Arnos, please," she implored in a low voice. "You should be proud that your daughter is committing to her studies."
"She will make an amazing queen one day," she added, offering Ethria a warm smile.
Ethria awkwardly reciprocated, fully aware that she hadn't completed a lick of homework in the past week. Arnos shot his wife a look but remained silent. The tension in the room thickened as the family began to eat in silence, the only sound being the clinking of silverware against plates. This didn’t bother Ethria as much, the less she talked the more she ate, right? Though to lighten the mood, Ethria attempted to steer the conversation toward the upcoming royal ball. She knew her parents were excited about it, they've been preparing for her official debut as an eligible bachelorette after all. This year was that year. But to her surprise, her father's minimal response added to the stifling atmosphere.
After what felt like an eternity, Arnos pushed his chair back, declaring, "I have work to do. The both of you can continue to eat if you so wish."
With that, he left the table, and Marcus, shortly after. Ethria sighed, watching him go. She knew she needed to make amends, but uncertainty lingered. The large hall fell near empty, the walls echoed the breaths of the ones who remained. Though it had not lasted long, through the silence, a voice called out.
"Dear, do not worry about your father," Katara reassured her. "You knew how things would get during this time."
Her father had been very low lately, little things setting him off instantly. Frustration built in Ethria as she discovered what resulted in his sour mood. Her father had always been keen on old epics, particularly “The Legend of Astoria.” An old tale about a long war between Astoria and the Underworld. Two realms connected together by a powerful magic, though had been supposedly severed after the imprisonment of Lisav. Some still say he lives deep within the Aura Crystal's core, soon to awaken.
Ethria shook her head in disbelief. "Are you seriously saying he still believes in that stupid prophecy? None of that is real, and I'm sick of hearing about it.
Katara fixed her with a stern gaze. "Watch your tone, Ethria. Your father has a lot of responsibilities, he doesn’t need any more nonsense from you."
"Mother, I’m sorry. I just wish that things would go back to normal." Ethria choked out, the tension in her family getting to her.
"Excuse me," Katara cleared her throat, slightly sympathetic towards Ethria's cry. "It is time for you to leave. You have a royal ball to prepare for."
Slightly confused by the entire situation, Ethria silently rose from her chair and retreated to her room. She couldn’t help but think about her mother’s cold reaction. Ethria had never seen her mother lose composure in her entire life. She had always been a poised woman, something Ethria had looked up to immensely. So why did that change now?
Upon opening the door, a familiar voice reached her ears.
"Pardon, my lady," Matilda said, her voice soft and soothing. "Your clothes are ready for you. Shall I help you change?"
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Ethria hesitated before nodding, grateful for the comforting presence. "Yes, please," she said, walking towards her wardrobe. As Matilda shut the door behind her, she gave Ethria a curious yet excited look.
"Aren't you excited for the ball this Saturday?" Matilda inquired, happily scanning through Ethria's beautiful jewelry. "I heard Prince Noell will be there, rumors say he's very handsome!"
“And very rude too, apparently.” Ethria added, chuckling slightly, The short banter making her forget about the horrible conversation she had just gotten away from.
Matilda scoffed, not believing that rumor. “Only the people who he rejected say that.”
“Quite a lot of them then, and I somehow need to win him over. Should be easy!” Ethria jokes eliciting a laugh from Matilda. Ethria continues to scan her many gowns, settling on a beautiful olive-colored gown. The soft white frills lining the dress caught her eye. She laid it on her bed, thinking about her decision.
“Change of plans, Matilda.” Ethria said, eyeing the dress. “I think I’ll wear this instead.”
Matilda, intrigued, turned around to face Ethria. “You're wearing that gown to the ball?”
"Nope, to the store, I'm buying a new dress for the ball!" Ethria declared, giving Matilda a proud look.
"You will?" Matilda exclaimed, vibrating with excitement. "Of course you will, Prince Noell will be there after all!"
"I have to look my best, now come help me," Ethria urged, and Matilda practically rushed to her aid. With some much needed elbow grease and a little bit of wishful thinking, the dress fit perfectly. Ethria admired herself in the mirror, taking in the many details of the dress. Matilda beamed with joy, ensuring the dress sat perfectly.
"You look absolutely beautiful, like always," Matilda complimented. "You would catch Prince Noell's eye even if you showed up in a potato sack!"
Ethria laughed heartily. "I would surely catch his eye in something like that!" She grabbed her pouch and cloak, ready to set out. "Maybe not the reaction I'd hope for, though."
"A reaction nonetheless, m’lady," Matilda giggled.
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The knocks on the wooden door became louder and more persistent with every passing minute. Ethria's knuckles began to ache as she stubbornly pounded at the door. Regardless of the crazy scene, the crowded street had paid no attention. The surroundings were slightly dilapidated, but still retained a homely charm, still not somewhere you’d want to be alone. This was the current state of the lower end of the kingdom’s walls where the working class resided. The ones who were lucky enough at least. But the ones who weren’t occupied the outskirts of the royal walls.
The withered wooden door echoed each thump as if in a vast cave, accentuating the almost hollow interior of the house. In the silent abode, the absence of noise only amplified the tension in the air. Surely, the person she sought would be at home. Just a few more knocks should do it.
"How long is it going to take her to answer the damn door?" Ethria thought, frustration building.
Before she could land her finishing blow, it swung open unexpectedly. However, instead of finding Tezeri, a wrinkled man of forbidding stature stood looming in the door frame. Clad in a tan tunic and dirty gray pants, he looked visibly angered, clutching a wooden mallet. The hairs on Ethria’s body stood tall by the sudden force appearing before her.
"The hell is all this racket!?" the older man exclaimed, his face reddened with anger. Ethria became somewhat sporadic. She stammered trying to explain herself, mentioning Tezeri in the process. The man looked her up and down, ignoring her current state. His demeanor gradually cooled once he realized who his noisy guest happened to be.
Princess, my aura. Forgive me," the man bowed in respect.
Surprised but equally apologetic, Ethria responded, "Mr. Shanks, I thought you were overseas. I’m so sorry for disturbing you!"
Before Mr. Shanks could utter another word, Ethria pulled him into a tight embrace, surprising him. The awkward reunion chipped at Mr. Shanks’ stone heart. Suddenly, fast and heavy footsteps could be heard throughout the rickety house, marching their way towards the front door.
"Father, stand back, I’ve got this!" a young woman's voice shouted from a distance. "Listen, we ain’t lookin for no trouble!"
A young woman rushed toward the door, wielding an absurdly large fishing hook. In a panic, Mr. Shanks grabbed the young woman before any irreversible damage could be done.
"Tezeri, it's me, Ethria!" Ethria smiled, pushing her hood away from her face.
The young human woman named Tezeri, stood still. Her fiery amber eyes shift into a cool honey. The usual hue of oak wood spread across her face, replacing the colored rage that had occupied it before. A hint of softness creeped into her features as she swept the dark curly tassels away from her forehead. Mr. Shanks looked at his daughter with delightment, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. The weight and size of it moving Tezeri’s tall yet slim stature ever so slightly.
Tezeri was one of Ethria’s childhood friends, even as a kid Tezeri’s short fuse was apparent. She was the muscle of the group, sticking up for her friends when words didn’t solve problems. Blunt and outspoken, her actions landed her into trouble most days.
I guess you could say Ethria acted as a leader in the group. Always getting her friends into favorable and even some unfavorable situations. Nevertheless, her playful and oddly persuading nature came in handy during these unpredictable times.
“I'll leave you two to it, good to see you again, Ethria.” Mr. Shanks said, before retreating back into solitude. His slow and mighty footsteps, slightly sinking the floorboards.
As the early morning sunlight casted over the familiar commonor’s district, Tezeri, with a quizzical expression, questioned Ethria's unexpected visit.
"What’re you doing here so early in the day? Someone die?" Tezeri scanned the surroundings, observing some drunken men fooling around near a stack of old barrels, their rowdy voices echoing in the air.
With a hint of dramatic flair, Ethria responded, "No, nothing like that! I'm here to take you on a dangerous quest! Yes, very dangerous…"
Tezeri was unimpressed, immediately cutting through the theatrics, "Does this 'quest' involve shopping and mini desserts in a carriage? Because if so, then I ain’t interested."
Ethria's initial excitement withered, transforming her from a regal princess into a pitiful beggar.
"Oh, come on, Tezeri. I already told Shiloh we would meet her at our usual spot!" Ethria exclaimed, seizing Tezeri's hand. "You know, in the courtyard gardens. We need gowns for the royal ball!"
Ethria’s accidental blab warranted her to cover her mouth, her eyes widened as she internally shamed herself. Ethria always had a problem with speaking before thinking.
Tezeri's face twisted in confusion. "We? I ain’t ever been invited before."
Before Tezeri could voice further skepticism, Ethria, defeated, thrusts a rolled piece of parchment into her face. Taken aback, Tezeri opens it, her eyes immediately drawn to the large and luxurious font at the top of the sheet.
"Plus one," Tezeri recited, a reluctant smile inching onto her lips. "They do that now? Okay, fine. But don't tell my father. Oh, and I want them little pastries with the cheese." With a final glance inside her home, Tezeri closed the door slowly behind her so as to not disturb her father any longer.
As surprised as she is, grateful compliance radiated from Ethria as she practically hopped towards the awaiting carriage on the dirt road. The adorned carriage boasted golden edges and a rich ruby red finish, displaying the nation's emblem—the white phoenix, a rare and majestic bird, symbolizing the Kingdom of Seras.
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The warmth of the air surrounded them as a gentle summer breeze blew through the azure sky. In this vibrant season, the courtyard gardens flourished, attracting the diverse magical beings of the kingdom. Gogras and humans practiced enchantments, Loack gracefully soared overhead, Pherians peddled their trinkets, and Espits engaged in good-natured banter while comparing their blades. The magic soaring and pulsating through everything around us made the world of Astoria what it was.
Amidst the thriving locale, Tezeri's attention was drawn to a familiar sight—a hand waving in the distance. As they approached, it became noticeable that their friend Shiloh stood on top of a somewhat crumbled pillar. Her skin was a pale vermillion canvas displaying intricate dark markings naturally etched along her skin. She has two sets of eyes, positioned one below the other and despite the vacant white irises characteristic of a gogra, they possessed incredible eyesight. Among all the races, gogras excelled in seeing both further and sharper, making their vision their most exceptional quality. Shiloh’s expression glowed in the sky like a second sun as she saw her friends. A bob of snow white hair danced in the wind, framing her round face and even rounder features. Her overly neat appearance depicts the tale of her aristocratic background.
She jumped down from her perch as she cradled her books in her hands. The hem of her dress flowing gracefully in the air. Stabilizing herself, she approached her friends with excitement.
"I swear those books are stitched to your body; you never go anywhere without them," Tezeri remarked, crossing her arms.
Shiloh was the bookworm of the tightly knit trio, her calm nature and wise words kept the two from making reckless decisions. Basically, she was the glue that kept them together, and the reason Tezeri hasn’t been thrown into the stocks yet.
Shiloh proudly displayed her latest obsessions, treating them like precious trophies. "I finished my old ones last week, so I got new ones! Ready for an adventure, Tezeri? We’ve a surprise for you."
Tezeri, without uttering a word, cleverly revealed the rolled parchment, teasing Shiloh with its contents. Shiloh's expression shifted from anticipation to devastation, realizing that Ethria had prematurely spoiled the surprise.
"Ethria, seriously? I thought we agreed to wait until we were all at the courtyard," Shiloh expressed her disheartenment, gesturing dramatically.
"She wouldn't budge unless I spilled the plans. I was backed into a corner!" Ethria shamelessly accused Tezeri, who responded with a swift slap to Ethria's hand.
"Stop plotting against me, both of you!" Tezeri demanded, grabbing both their collars and steering them toward the shopping center with little effort.