Chained Sovereign

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<<set $Characters to false>><<set $CodexLore to false>> Before we begin, let's answer a few questions about yourself. Such as: You are... ...[[short->ro][$height to "short"]]. ...[[average->ro][$height to "average"]]. ...[[tall->ro][$height to "tall"]].

<div id="sidebar"> <div class="sidebar-header">  <div></div>  <h1 class="story-title" data-passage="gameTitle"></h1>  <div class="sidebar-toggle"> <span id="sidebar-toggle-icon" class="lnr lnr-menu-circle"></span> </div> </div>   <div class="sidebar-history-nav"> <span id="backwards-button" class="lnr lnr-arrow-left"></span> <span id="forwards-button" class="lnr lnr-arrow-right"></span> </div> <div id="sidebar-body">  <div class="story-logo" data-passage="storyLogo"></div>  <h2 class="story-author" data-passage="storyAuthor"></h2> <nav class="sidebar-nav"> <ul class="story-tools"> <li> <span id="restart-button" class="lnr lnr-redo"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Restart</span> </li> <li> <span id="saves-button" class="lnr lnr-download"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Saves</span> </li> <li> <span id="settings-button" class="lnr lnr-cog"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Settings</span> </li> </ul> <ul class="story-menu" data-passage="storyMenu"> </ul> </nav> <nav id="social-media"> <p></p> <ul data-passage="socialMedia"> </ul> </nav> </div>  </div>  <div id="story" role="main"> <div id="passages"> <div id="passage-start" data-passage="start" class="passage"> </div> </div> </div>

<<nobr>>  <<if $Characters is true>><li>[[Characters]]</li> <</if>> <<if $CodexLore is true>><li>[[Codex/Lore]]</li> <</if>> <</nobr>>

Chained Sovereign

!Characters <<if $haveMet$name is true>> !!$name Sovereign !!!Why are you asking me? You should know how to say your own name! You are the last of the Sovereigns. When growing up, your magic came easily to you, although you couldn’t always control it. Your magic was always the extreme-a flamethrower, lightning, mountains of ice. However, when you lost your family, what control of your magic you had utterly fled you. Later in your teens, magic was nearly impossible to call upon with your grieved, sorrowed, lonely, deteriorated mind. <</if>> <<if $haveMetRhelin is true>> !!Rhelin Thurald !!!(reh-lin thur-awld) The man whomst stole your family, your throne, your title, your home… Clad in regal attire, the fabric is rich and dark. A deep, blood-red cloak cascades from his shoulders, a symbol of power. Adorned with intricate, ominous embroidery. Upon his head rests a crown forged from cold, unyielding metal. Sharp edges and intimidating spikes adorn the circlet, a stark contrast to the opulence of its gemstones. His facial features are a study in contrasts. A strong, commanding jawline is accompanied by piercing eyes. The eyes are an unsettling shade, a mix of cold steel and fiery determination. His lips are set in a perpetually thin line, conveying a sense of severity and an absence of mercy. The skin, though adorned with a veneer of regal poise, carries an undertone of cruelty, etched into the lines that frame his expression. <</if>> <<if $haveMetYsmri is true>> !!Captain Ysmri !!!(yis-mree) Serves the emperor as one of his captains. Their loyalty seems endless. You've noticed she has blonde shoulder length hair and gray eyes. <</if>> <<if $haveMetVaenath is true>> !!Vaenath Euclav the Mercenary !!!(vay-nath ee-you-clawv) A well-regarded mercenary who’s never left a job empty-handed, either from being paid or stealing from her client. However, she doesn’t like when people bring up her obvious love of thievery... A charming woman with red hair pulling back into a long, long braid. Her freckled face is smiling widely, showing off a pair of dimples. She has a few feathers in her hair, which you can't discern as purposeful or accidental. She's wearing tight leather, red cloth tied around her in a few places. Though, in the front, you're quite positive the amount of skin showing was definitely on purpose. On her back is an impressive crossbow with detailed carvings, and on her hip what looks to be a pair of short swords. <</if>> <<if $haveMetUthim is true>> !!Uthim !!!(oo-thim) The eldest. He always had a sense of knowing where he belonged. He was fourteen. <</if>> <<if $haveMetPhanyr is true>> !!Phanyr !!!(fan-yeer) The second eldest. He always seemed to just know what you needed. He was eleven. <</if>> <<if $haveMetEvaliina is true>> !!Evaliina !!!(evah-lee-nah) The second youngest. She always knew how to get into trouble and have fun. She was nine. <</if>> <<if $haveMetLochar is true>> !!Lochar !!!(low-kar) A previous servant of the Sovereigns, known for his undying loyalty and commitment. He was especially kind to you and your siblings, sneaking you all treats when you were in trouble. <</if>>  <center><<link "Return to the game" $return>><</link>></center>

!Lore <<if $haveMetSovereign is true>> !!Sovereigns !!!What are they? A bloodline that the gods blessed with peculiar markings on their body. These markings are the tales of their lives-once they experience a certain event, symbols appear and some may inform the person what they represent and how they may help. Except, some are cryptic, because gods love that sort of thing. <</if>> !!Places <<if $haveMetTopOfTheWorld is true>> !!!Top of the World A vast city scaling a mountain, where the Grand Palace sits on top. It was said to be the most peaceful place to live before the reign of Rhelin. Now, it’s simply a city for his vast army. <</if>> <<if $haveMetGrandPalace is true>> !!!Grand Palace Where the reigning Sovereigns keep the Court and where all public events happen. <</if>> <<if $haveMetMyopa is true>> !!!Myopa (my-oh-pah/me-oh-pah) Surrounded by towering stone walls adorned with centuries-old vines. The enchanted city is renowned as the City of Eternal Shadows, earning its name from the intricate architecture that allows shafts of sunlight to dance through the narrow cobblestone streets, creating an ever-shifting play of light and shadow. The grand citadel, standing tall in the heart of the city, is home to the respectable Guild of Master Craftsmen, a guild of skilled artisans and architects dedicated to the mastery of their respective crafts. The City of Eternal Shadows takes pride in its architectural marvels. The city's bustling marketplace, known as the Twilight Bazaar, is a haven for traders peddling rare elixirs, enchanted artifacts, and mystical trinkets. One of the city's most celebrated events is the Moonlit Masquerade, an annual ball held in the opulent Moonshadow Palace. Nobles and commoners alike don elaborate masks, concealing their identities as they revel in a night of enchantment, music, and dance. In the surrounding wilderness lies the Whispering Woods, a dense forest teeming with magical creatures and ancient secrets. <</if>> <<if $haveMetGyarji is true>> !!!Gyarji (gee-ar-gee/gee-ar-shee) Encased in towering, impenetrable walls of cold, gray stone, adorned with foreboding Aveserpequ, an omen of ill intentions, that seem to watch over the desolate landscape. Beneath the prison lies a labyrinthine network of catacombs and tunnels, where the most dangerous criminals are confined in the deepest, darkest recesses. At the heart of Gyarji rises the imposing Tower of the Damned, a stark and solitary structure where the guardhouse is held. Gyarji is presided over by an enigmatic and stern Warden, a figure shrouded in mystery and draped in a cloak of authority. The Warden's Watch, a group of elite guards known for their unyielding loyalty and unflinching discipline, patrols the prison's grounds day and night, ensuring that order is maintained with ruthless efficiency. For the most heinous offenders, or the unfortunate souls that go against the Warden, Gyarji boasts the notorious Pit of Despair- a deep, lightless chasm where prisoners are cast to endure an eternity of isolation and darkness. Executions in Gyarji are a public affair, held at the Whispering Gallows- an eerie clearing where ancient trees seem to sigh in sorrow. Gyarji is steeped in legends and cursed tales, with locals whispering about vengeful spirits. Superstitions surround the place, as some claim that the wails of the wrongfully accused echo through the corridors, seeking justice from beyond the grave. <</if>> !!Creatures <<if $haveMetCanchiropave is true>> !!!Canchiropave (cane-chee-row-pahv/cane-cheer-pahv) An animal with a wolf head, bat wings and bird legs. The symbol of the emperor. <</if>> <<if $haveMetAveserpequ is true>> !!!Aveserpequ (av-eh-serp-eh-q/av-serp-eh-q) An animal with a bird head, serpent tail and horse legs. An omen of ill intentions. <</if>> <<if $haveMetSusgalloryct is true>> !!!Susgalloryct (sue-gal-or-ict/sue-gore-ict) An animal with a head of a pig, body of a chicken and rabbit legs. Said to hold the most delicious meat in the world, causing it’s near extinction. <</if>>  <center><<link "Return to the game" $return>><</link>></center>

<<set $height to "short">> What Is Your First Name?: <<textbox "$name" "Type answer here">> You are interested in: ...[[women->hair][$rogender to "women", $rogendersing to "woman", $rohe to "she", $rohim to "her", $rohis to "her", $roHe to "She", $roHim to "Her", $roHis to "Her", $rohimself to "herself", $roHimself to "Herself", $roparent to "mother", $roroyalmock to "princess"]]. ...[[men->hair][$rogender to "men", $rogendersing to "man", $rohe to "he", $rohim to "him", $rohis to "his", $roHe to "He", $roHim to "Him", $roHis to "His", $rohimself to "Himself", $roHimself to "himself", $roparent to "father", $roroyalmock to "prince"]].

What Is Your Nickname?: <<textbox "$nick" "Type answer here">> Your hair color is... ...[[ebony->height][$haircolor to "ebony"]]? ...[[chestnut->height][$haircolor to "chestnut"]]? ...[[blonde->height][$haircolor to "blonde"]]? ...[[red->height][$haircolor to "red"]]?

What gender are you? <<cycle "$gender" autoselect>> <<option "Female">> <<option "Male">> <</cycle>>. Your pronouns are... ...[[she, her->Confirmation][$gender to "female", $he to "she", $him to "her", $his to "her", $child to "daughter", $He to "She", $Him to "Her", $His to "Her", $noble to "lady", $man to "woman", $royalmock to "princess", $parent to "mother"]]. ...[[he, him->Confirmation][$gender to "male", $he to "he", $him to "him", $his to "his", $child to "son", $He to "He", $Him to "Him", $His to "His", $noble to "gentleman", $man to "man", $men to "men", $royalmock to "prince", $parent to "father"]].

So, you are $name and you have $haircolor hair and you are a $height $gender with pronouns of $he and $him who is interested in $rogender. Is that correct? [[Yes!->Prologue]] [[No, let me change my name and/or gender!->Prologue]] [[No, let me change my appearance and/or romance options!->Prologue]]

!Chained Sovereign !!Prolouge !!!Night, In the Wilderness Somewhere //Once more//, you tell yourself, //once more//. You close your eyes, concentrating. Beyond what your eyes see, what your body feels, what you hear… Burning. Flames roaring, bleeding from the buildings that are too familiar. Screaming. Flurries of bodies, running, fleeing, scurrying. //Focus//, you remind yourself. You inhale, coughing as soon as you do, the ashes and sulfur burning your throat. You hear wood creak and fall, crashing down and exploding in splinters and sparks. //Feel it//. You edge closer. Your heart beats rapidly, your hands shaking as you reach out to it. //Take it//. You ignore your burning eyes, immortalizing the sight. Your hand flares up in temperature. You want to flick it away, to save yourself from pain, but you don't. You can't. //Make it yours//. You turn your hand, wrist upwards. It's shaking, from the nerves or something else, you can't tell. You snap. Opening your eyes to a small flame hovering over your fingers relieves you. You gently take it to a ready stick, liberated from the worry and stress of the consequences. ---- [[Finally, a warmth in this cold.->Prologue1]]

The days stretch on. Sometimes you know what day it is, other times the year eludes you. It's both surprising and logical when you hear someone say it's been seventeen years. Seventeen years since the death of aspiring souls. Seventeen years since the death of dreams. Seventeen years since the death of peace. You knew it had been a looking time, but… seventeen years? That made you… twenty-four. To others, that might seem young, but to you… oh, twenty-four? It seemed just the other day you were nineteen, climbing the Belfry Prominence, a range of mountains said to meet the gods. Though, now that you thought of it, it //had// been a while. Besides, running from those who were paid to see you dead hasn't left you the time to think much on the matter. You run a hand down your face, exhaustion clawing at your being. While on the run, you haven't exactly had the pleasure of staying still and earning some money. How you even have some is a miracle by itself. Which is exactly why you're sitting in a tavern, eating food you had the pleasure of not capturing and cooking. A lone bard sings a solemn song in the corner, plucking strings steadily to make her voice the epiphany of melancholy. The song she plays is a popular one, although you're surprised to hear it here. Even if it's a town, it's big enough to have the occasional unwelcome ear. ---- [[Continue->Prologue2]]

<<set $CodexLore to true>><<set $haveMetSovereign to true>> Her voice recalls the story of seventeen years ago: //In the tapestry of time, woven by the gods, A sovereign marked, bearing divine odds. With symbols on skin, a bloodline foretold, But the emperor rose, their heart icy and cold. In the moonlit night, where fate unfolds, The gods’ markings, a story told. A kingdom betrayed, by the emperor’s greed, Tyrants emerged, planting their seed. Oh, sovereign adorned by gods on high, Your destiny etched, but the tyrants defy. The emperor’s crown, a darkened lie, Beneath their rule, the kingdom does die. The markings ablaze, a tale to be sung, Of a sovereign’s struggle, their spirit unstrung. Bearing the weight of the gods’ design, Yet the emperor's reign, a relentless malign. In the sacred ink, the prophecy read, Tyrants emerged, filling hearts with dread, A kingdom in chains, a people’s plea, Against the oppressor, we’ll fight to be free. Oh, sovereign adorned by gods on high, Your destiny etched, but the tyrants defy. The emperor’s crown, a darkened lie, Beneath their rule, the kingdom does die. As the stars align, the gods bear witness, To the sovereign’s plight, their struggle, their fierceness, But the emperor’s hand, a relentless grip, The gods’ markings fading, in the tyrant’s eclipse. Through the valleys of sorrow, where shadows loom, The sovereign stands, in the gathering gloom. Their bloodline marked, by the gods above, But the emperor’s oppression, a sinister glove. In the runes of fate, the prophecy told, Tyrants emerged, hearts bitter and cold. A kingdom in ruins, a people’s strife, Against the oppressors, we’ll forge a new life. Oh, sovereign adorned by gods on high, Your destiny etched, but the tyrants defy. The emperor’s crown, a darkened lie, Beneath their rule, the kingdom does die. In the echoes of time, the sovereign’s tale, A legacy marked, against the tyrants’ hail. With the gods’ markings, a promise we keep, In the sovereign’s name, from shadows we’ll leap In the sacred night, the gods did decree, A sovereign marked with destiny Symbols on flesh, a tale untold, But the emperor’s rise, a story unfolds.// The song ends unhurriedly, drawn out with the bard's voice, laced with pain, suffering, abandonment. The tavern is silent as the last note is played. Contemplative or remorseful, you couldn't tell. Probably both. "Perhaps, this time, play a lighthearted tune," a woman, in a scolding manner, expresses to the bard. You assume she's the owner of the tavern. Without a moment's hesitation, the bard begins to play a strong, heroic tune. "No," the woman quickly shuts down. "Another." The bard sighs heavily. "What 'f it?" she says in a thick accent. "I ain't singin' t' the tyrant." The woman scowls. "There are eyes everywhere," she hisses. "Play a nice tune or you're out of here." The bard begins a new, less troublesome, song as you find yourself finished with your food. You thank your ancestors for the chance to eat once more before getting to your feet. You leave the tavern, walking along the dirt paths thoughtlessly. You've done this a million times. Come across a town, find a tavern, eat, and leave, following the dirt paths. To where, you aren't sure. You've never been sure. You just know you need to move. ---- [[Continue->Prologue3]]

* //Lore Updated!// When you've scaled a nearby hill, you look back at the town. It's now just a cluster of brown blobs with pillaring smoke. You want to stay, you always want to, but you know what would happen if you gave into the longing. Shame and guilt wash over you in waves, crashing into the flames you feel behind you. But as you turn, only trees greet you. Exhaustion, done with the ruthless clawing and ripping, now settles in the pit of your chest, creeping and seizing whatever it touches. You're tired of feeling this way. Your feet move instinctively towards the trees. You would have liked to look at the view longer, but that would allow those hunting you to get closer. And closer they are. You take a step, hear a thwip, crash, and you're shocked to see the ground a few feet from you- below you? Above you? Disoriented, you try to grasp what direction you're facing. You see your right foot being the cause of this. You had stepped into an animal trap, and now you're suspended in the air, upside down. As you look at the rope, pain settles in. Your foot, your back, your head. You ache and your body throbs, making you wonder how hard you had hit the ground. To your dismay, your weapons are on the ground, out of reach. So much for running successfully for seventeen years. ---- [[Continue->Prologue4]]

<<set $Characters to false>> <<set $CodexLore to false>> Characters: <<set $haveMet$name to false>> <<set $haveMetRhelin to false>> <<set $haveMetYsmri to false>> <<set $haveMetUthim to false>> <<set $haveMetPhanyr to false>> <<set $haveMetEvaliina to false>> <<set $haveMetVaenath to false>> <<set $haveMetLochar to false>> <<set $haveMetSandW to false>> Frienship: <<set $friendshipY to 0>> <<set $friendshipV to 0>> Places: <<set $haveMetMyopa to false>> <<set $haveMetGyarji to false>> <<set $haveMetGrandPalace to false>> <<set $haveMetTopOfTheWorld to false>> <<set $haveMetValorsPoint to false>> Lore: <<set $haveMetSovereign to false>> <<set $haveMetCanchiropave to false>> <<set $haveMetAveserpequ to false>> <<set $haveMetSusgalloryct to false>> <<set $haveMet to false>> <<set $friendshipCharacter to 0>>

scream = 0, kick table = 1 <<set $$breakfastOutburst to 0>> <<set $$breakfastOutburst to 1>> truth = 0, deflect = 1, lie = 2 <<set $tellYsmri to 0>> <<set $tellYsmri to 1>> <<set $tellYsmri to 2>> gauges Ysmri's friendship level; higher it is, higher opinion they have of you <<set $friendshipYsmri to 0>> <<set $friendshipYsmri to += 1>> <<set $friendshipYsmri to -= 1>> grab doll = 0, don't grab doll = 1 <<set $grabDoll to 0>> <<set $grabDoll to 1>>

<<set $hello = "hello">> <<print $hello.toUpperFirst()>> <<= $hello.toUpperFirst()>> !!! Checkbox: <<checkbox "$checkboxVar1" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 1 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar2" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 2 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar3" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 3 !!! Cycle: <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</cycle>> !!! Listbox: <<listbox "$listboxVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</listbox>> !!! Radiobutton: <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 1" autocheck>> Option 1 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 2" autocheck>> Option 2 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 3" autocheck>> Option 3 !!! Textarea: <<textarea "$textareaVar" "Type text here..">> !!! Textbox: <<textbox "$textboxVar" "Type answer here">> * List item 1 * List item 2 <<button "Button" "More Styles">><</button>>

!!!The Grand Palace You take a deep breath and wipe your tears away. So //what// if they're scared of you? You're still learning. You're just... you just need more time. You'll get it. You'll understand. You'll master it. You look at your fingers. "//Focus//," your mother's voice echoes in your mind. "//Feel it. Take it. Make it yours, $name.//" Focus. You close your eyes. Feel it. You inhale, feeling the warmth of your body. Not enough. Stretch out, feel... the horses. The cats who hunt. The mice that run. Take it. Take the warmth. ... How do you take it? Breathe it in? Focus harder? Let it melt into you? This is ridiculous. This is impossible! How are you expected to do this? How do the others do it with such ease? Your brows furrow as you inhale. Make it yours. //It isn't fair//! Your eyes snap open. The stable is on fire. Why... How is... //You did this//. You did this? Why can't you control it? ---- What's wrong with you?

You watch as the sun sets, stealing any comfort away from you. For what felt like hours you tried to free yourself to no avail. You are simply a tracked animal, finally caught. Though, with your head getting lightheaded from being upside down, you used all your energy to keep yourself upright. By the time light flickered on the hill, you felt sick and puny. Your hands are cold and clammy, your arms shaking with fatigue. What happens next is all but a blur to you. Being cut down, falling painfully onto your back, voices of glee as they bind your hands behind yourself. They seize your head, pulling it to the side as they grab your garments to look at your bare skin. "The markings," you hear someone mutter, tracing a line on your shoulder. "Look further," another says. "Make sure it's not some tattoo." You struggle as they try to unclothe you. You snap at them, heatbutt whatever your eyes come upon until a harsh voice says, "What in the world are you all doing?" Hands fall from you. "The emperor will make sure this is the one." The voice warns, "If he finds out you took that from him… just imagine what he'll do to you." You crane your neck to try and see who it's defending you, but all you see are torches. You thank your ancestors for whoever decided to defend you. ---- [[Continue->Prologue5]]

<<set $haveMetCanchiropave to true>> You take in a steady breath. //Calm down//, you tell yourself. //There's no use getting riled up. Right//? You sit back down, watching the torch flicker. If only you had paid more attention. You could have made your way out of here. You could have //saved// them. You could have... Footsteps echo through the dungeon, stopping you from your fateful spire. A soldier comes into veiw, clad in iron, holding a torch. They stop briefly at your cell. After a moment, you hear them mutter, "You're awake." You try, and fail, at holding back a scowl. "Oh, you're awake!" they say louder, taking a step back, now facing you. On their breastplate is an animal with a wolf head, bat wings and bird legs. The symbol of the emperor, a //Canchiropave//. The soldier, without another word, bolts to whence they came. To tell the emperor of your awakened state, no doubt. Minutes pass with suffering silence. The still air makes you uneasy, on edge and apprehensive. You could swear the walls were moving closer to you. Your heartbeat quickens as you think back to the tavern. The bard's song. //The emperor’s crown, a darkened lie, Beneath their rule, the kingdom does die.// You close your eyes, trying to even your breathing. It won't do you any good if you started to panic. You hear the echoing of many footsteps, making you open your eyes. Four, no, five soldiers stop at your cell. One of them is different, however. Strands of red shoot up from the top of their helm, their wearing a red cape lined with gold and their armor is noticeably more expensive. This one opens the door and orders the others to grab you. A soldier shoves a bag over your head, to ensure you're disoriented as they lead you through the castle. Minutes pass on. You have to wonder if they're trying to disorient you further or if this palace is, indeed, //this// large. The soldiers who hold your arms are practically dragging you, their gauntlets sure to bruise your skin by how hard their grip is. You're startled when they abruptly halt, feet slipping from under you. The soldiers hold you up, as if you're a child just learning to walk, and you regain your footing. "Tell His Excellency we have the one He's asked for." You recognize the voice to be the fancier soldier. You entertain, mainly distract, yourself briefly by wondering what rank they hold. A high-ranking officer for sure. But would it be as far as general? Doors creak open and you are once again shoved and dragged forward. You count your steps, or, what would be steps had you not been carried most of the way. You're abruptly thrown onto your knees while you hear swords come out of their sheaths. "Show me," a gravelly voice calls. The bag rips off your head. ---- [[Continue->Prologue6]]

* //Lore Updated!// The air is heavy with an oppressive aura, and the grandeur of the space is tainted by an unmistakable sense of tyranny. The room is adorned with opulence, but it feels more like a display of power than a celebration of prosperity. The walls are adorned with tapestries that tell a distorted tale of conquest and submission. The once vibrant colors are muted, as if drained of life, mirroring the atmosphere in the room. Torches flicker, casting dancing shadows that seem to whisper of secrets and treachery. The throne itself, looming at the far end of the room, is an imposing structure. Its cold, dark metal seems to absorb the light rather than reflect it. Seated upon the foreboding throne, the tyrant exudes an air of arrogance and entitlement. Their gaze is piercing, and a smirk plays on their lips, reveling in the dominance they've established. The throne room is a testament to their might, but also a testament to the suffering that shadows their reign. "Leave us," the tyrant says with a flick of their wrist. The soldiers, without question, bow and hurry from the room. As the door closes behind you, chills run up your spine. "Hm." The tyrant slowly gets up from their throne, dark gaze never wavering from you. "You're not what I expected." Their steps echo as they descend, a rich aura of power exuding from them. When they step off the last step, you recognize who this is. Clad in regal attire, the fabric is rich and dark, as if absorbing the very essence of the shadows that dance in the corners of the throne room. A deep, blood-red cloak cascades from their shoulders, a symbol of power that billows as they move. The tyrant's clothing is adorned with intricate, ominous embroidery. The symbols etched into the fabric seem to whisper of their authority, each thread a testament to the might they wield over the realm. Upon their head rests a crown forged from cold, unyielding metal. Sharp edges and intimidating spikes adorn the circlet, a stark contrast to the opulence of its gemstones. The jewels embedded within the crown glint with an unsettling brilliance, reflecting the calculated and ruthless nature of the tyrant. The tyrant's facial features are a study in contrasts. A strong, commanding jawline is accompanied by piercing eyes that seem to penetrate the very soul of those who meet their gaze. The eyes are an unsettling shade, a mix of cold steel and fiery determination. Their lips are set in a perpetually thin line, conveying a sense of severity and an absence of mercy. The skin, though adorned with a veneer of regal poise, carries an undertone of cruelty, etched into the lines that frame the tyrant's expression. ---- [[Continue->Prologue7]]

<<set $Characters to true>><<set $haveMetRhelin to true>> You know this man as ''Rhelin Thurald''. You try to ignore why you know this fact. Rhelin stops before you, adjusting the cuffs on his wrists. "So, you finally fall into my hands. It's been a while." He offers you an unsettling grin. Behind you, your hands curl into fists as they shake. "But, of course," he says, finally looking away, to his right, "we shall see if you're truly who I'm after." Chills flow through you, fear settling at the base of your throat. You know what he means. Rhelin kneels before you. He reaches for your coat, throwing it over your shoulders and out of the way. His cold fingers trace a line on your collarbone. He lets out a low hum. He takes your shirt and simply rips it open. Marvel is evident in his features. The bard's voice rings in your ears. //In the tapestry of time, woven by the gods, A sovereign marked, bearing divine odds. With symbols on skin, a bloodline foretold// A low chuckle escapes his lips. "I hadn't given much thought that you would be a little <<if $gender is "female">>girl." <<elseif $gender is "male">>boy."<</if>> ---- [[Continue->Prologue8]]

* //Characters Updated!//<<set $haveMet$name to true>><<set $haveMetGrandPalace to true>> You practically growl at him. "You're disgusting, Rhelin." Rhelin grabs your chin, forcing you to look deep into his eyes. "Now, now," he purrs, "we both know this is better for this kingdom, this country, this //empire//." You crinckle your nose in disgust. Rhelin frowns. "I see you're trying to hurt my feelings..." He pauses briefly, brows furrowing. A hand reaches up and strokes his chin. "I don't even remember your name." "It's //$name//." You glare at him. <<if $gender is "female">>"Ohh... yes, of course... //$name//... How could I forget //that// lovely name, hmm?" <<elseif $gender is "male">> "Oh... Hm... Yes, of course... //$name//... How could I forget //that//?"<</if>>Rhelin finally lets go of your chin. He stands, voice laced with sarcasm as he remarks, "Welcome home, Your Imperial //Sovereignty//." Home? You glance around. No, my home should have burned, it... Unless... "We're in the Grand Palace," you realize with wide eyes. Rhelin hums as he turns towards the throne. "I'm rather pleased with what I've done with the place." Your eyes sink to the floor right in front of you. Even if you hadn't spent much time in the grand palace, you //should// have recognized it. It was your home. You close your eyes, memories flooding back. //It was your home.// Rhelin climbs the stairs to his throne and sits. <<if $gender is "female">>"Hmm. Well, now that my curiosity is sated, I think I'll have fun with you before I finish the job." Chills run down your spine. He couldn't be insinuating...<<elseif $gender is "male">>"Hmm. Well, now that my curiosity is sated, I think I'll have you work before I finish the job." What is he insinuating?<</if>> "Captain!" he barks, echoing in the near empty room. The doors behind you open. You hear footsteps fall closer and closer until the Captain stands next to you. You recognize them as the fancier soldier from before<<if $rogender is "women">> and a woman<</if>>. "Take $name to ''Myopa''." The Captain hits $rohis hand to above their heart. "And make sure $he doesn't die." Rhelin crosses his legs, a chilling smile crossing his lips. "I want the pleasure of ending their miserable god-blessed bloodline myself." ---- [[Continue->Prologue9]]

* //Characters & Codex Updated!// You watch as the building erupts into flames. Servants make a run for it while soldiers sprint to. A hand clamps down on your shoulder. "$name!" You can't tear your eyes from the flames. They're so high now. A figure blocks your veiw. "$name! Listen to me!" You look up at the figure, recognizing your father. What is he doing here? He's supposed to be at the Grand Palace for the Pale Beginings Festival. "Come now, $name." The hand that was on your shoulder slips down to your hand. He squeezes, a comforting gesture. You plod after him as he takes you away from the flames. Maybe the Pale Beginings Festival was postponed. An explosion behind you makes you jump. As you turn to see, your father lifts you into his arms. "Don't look." His voice is unusually harsh. "Understand?" You don't, not really. Still, you trust him. "I understand." ---- [[You wake.->Prologue10]]

<<set $haveMetMyopa to true>> You stir slowly, the memory sickeningly fresh in your mind. If only it were like ordinary dreams, where you forgot it as soon as you try to think of it. You suppose it's because it's something you //want// for forget, to put behind you. You try to push the dream out of your mind. You arrived in Myopa late last night, led by the Captain every step of the way. Myopa is surrounded by towering stone walls adorned with centuries-old vines. The enchanted city is renowned as the City of Eternal Shadows, earning its name from the intricate architecture that allows shafts of sunlight to dance through the narrow cobblestone streets, creating an ever-shifting play of light and shadow. The grand citadel, standing tall in the heart of the city, is home to the respectable Guild of Master Craftsmen, a guild of skilled artisans and architects dedicated to the mastery of their respective crafts. The City of Eternal Shadows takes pride in its architectural marvels. The city's bustling marketplace, known as the Twilight Bazaar, is a haven for traders peddling rare elixirs, enchanted artifacts, and mystical trinkets. One of the city's most celebrated events is the Moonlit Masquerade, an annual ball held in the opulent Moonshadow Palace. Nobles and commoners alike don elaborate masks, concealing their identities as they revel in a night of enchantment, music, and dance. In the surrounding wilderness lies the Whispering Woods, a dense forest teeming with magical creatures and ancient secrets. A soft groan leaves your lips as your lift your head and rub your eyes. ---- [[Continue->Prologue11]]

* //Codex Updated!// You sit up, trying to blink your exhaustion away. You notice in the corner of the room the Captain is seated, facing you. At least you never made an escape plan. You throw the blanket off of you and stretch. Even though you had been with the Captain for nearly a whole day now, $rohe hasn't said a single thing to you. You're not certain if you're relieved or troubled by it. You get to your feet and stretch more. It had been a long time since you'd slept in an actual bed. You can barely believe how alive you feel. You swiftly freshen up with what was readily available to you, which was not much, but plenty compared to your last seventeen years of life. The Captain gets to their $rohis feet, opens a nearby wardrobe, and motions to it. "For me?" you guess. $roHe nods. Skeptically, you approach the wardrobe. The garments catch you off-guard. <<if $gender is "female">>There hangs a deep midnight blue overcoat speckled with white stars and a classy white dress, each having gold trimming. <<elseif $gender is "male">>There hangs a deep midnight blue overcoat speckled with white stars and a classy white robe, each having gold trimming.<</if>> You reach out to them, but stop yourself. //Why would Rhelin give you such expensive clothes? He despises your blood.// You touch the fabric, frowning when you find it to be silk. <<if $gender is "female">>His voice echoes in your head. "//I think I'll have fun with you before I finish the job//." So, this was part of the fun? Dressing you up in one of the most expensive cities?<<elseif $gender is "male">>His voice echoes in your head. "//I think I'll have you work before I finish the job//." So, this was part of the work? Dressing you up in one of the most expensive cities?<</if>> With a noise of disgust, you take the clothes and swiftly dress, trying to ignore that the Captain is still in the room with you. ---- [[You turn to the Captain when you're dressed.->Prologue12]]

The overcoat is loose-fitting, wrapping around you how the sky does the earth. <<if $gender is "female">>The dress, on the other hand, is quite tight in places you'd rather it not be. Since the dress has a low neckline, you can see some of the markings on your chest. <<elseif $gender is "male">>Since the dress has a low neckline, you can see some of the markings on your chest. <</if>> You do your best to hold in how sick you feel by that singular fact. Your bare skin doesn't bother you near as much as the marks. //The blessing of the gods.// What marked you as a true Sovereign. You've prayed that your markings do not appear down on your arms and legs as it had your parents. Hiding them would be a much bigger burden if they did. The Captain nods before $rohe leans down and grabs something from the floor. $roHe offers you a pair of shoes. They're <<if $height is "tall">>flats, relieving since you're tall. You'd rather not stand out so drastically. <<elseif $height is "average">>boots, making you stand out a bit- you wish you didn't. <<elseis $height is "short">>heels, much needed since you're quite short. <</if>> You put the <<if $height is "short">>heels <<elseif $height is "average">>boots <<elseif $height is "tall">> flats<</if>>on quietly. When you take a few, admittedly unsteady, steps to see how they fit, you're surprised that they're your size. But... how did $rohe know? Shivers climb your spine as you decide you'd rather be oblivious in this matter. The Captain turns to the door, motioning for you to follow. $roHe leads you out of the building you were staying in and through the curving streets of Myopa. <<if $height is "short">>You would have thought out a delibrate, long and tactical escape plan were there not four soldiers flanking you. If it were just one or two of them, you could have easyily slipped away because of your height. //Gods forbid a Sovereign with a peaceful tale.// Your eyes linger on the ground in front of you. Partially because you are captivated by the shadows and partially because you'd rather not see the look on people's faces when you, a small woman, pass by with five of Rhelin's soldiers. Just thinking of it brings you shame and misery.<<elseif $height is "average">>You would have thought out a delibrate, long and tactical escape plan were there not four soldiers flanking you. //Gods forbid a Sovereign with a peaceful tale.// Your eyes linger on the ground in front of you. Partially because you are captivated by the shadows and partially because you'd rather not see the look on people's faces when you pass by with five of Rhelin's soldiers. Just thinking of it brings you shame and misery. <<elseif $height is "tall">>You would have thought out a delibrate, long and tactical escape plan were there not four soldiers flanking you. //Gods forbid a Sovereign with a peaceful tale.// Your eyes linger on the ground in front of you. Partially because you are captivated by the shadows and partially because you'd rather not see the look on people's faces when you, a tall woman with visible //tattoos//, pass by with five of Rhelin's soldiers. Just thinking of it brings you shame and misery. <</if>> The Captain turns for a building, but stops short. $roHe motions to the guards and orders them to stay outside. You walk inside with the Captain, suspicious but curious as it looks to be a beauty salon. You had heard that Myopa had them, but you never believed the rumors. Why go out when the hairdresser could come to you? Looking around, you can see why: these aren't nobles or rich folk. They're commoners. And by the looks of it, some of them are getting their hair done for the first time in their life. But... why are //you// here? <<if $height is "short">>A hairdresser approaches, an obvious forced smile plastered on her face. She's mainly looking down at you when she says, "Good morning..." She seems to pity your height. "Is there something we can do for you?" <<elseif $height is "average">>A hairdresser approaches, an obvious forced smile plastered on her face. She's mainly looking at you when she says, "Good morning... is there something we can do for you?" <<elseif $height is "tall">>A hairdresser approaches, an obvious forced smile plastered on her face. She's mainly looking up at you when she says, "Good morning..." She seems inimidated by your height. "Is there something we can do for you?"<</if>> The Captain nods. "We are in need of your services." "Are you?" The hairdresser eyes you for a moment. "Well, come this way. I'll have you in my private booth." You both follow the woman behind doors. She tells you where to sit, and as you wait, you have to wonder... "Just //why// are we here?" you hear yourself ask. The Captain put $rohis hands hehind themselves. //Great. I got the one who won't say a thing.// You fold your arms, wallowing in your small tantrum. You're somewhere new, surrounded by strangers, being led on by an all-powerful tyrant. When the hairdresser returns, she asks, "What do you want me to do today?" The Captain steps forward. "Shoulder length." "Oh, I see." The hairdresser shoots you an apologetic look. //Oh I see indeed!// You turn to the captain. "Can't you have //some// pity?" you burst out. "Lead around like some carnival animal, dress me however you see fit? Can't we just skip this?" "No," is the immidiate answer. "Can I at //least// choose a style?" The Captain hums lightly. $roHe glances at the hairdresser for a moment before looking back at you. "That depends. What do you desire?" ---- [["Short hair. I could do with a new look."->Prologue13a][$hairlength to "short"]] [["I guess I'll go along with the shoulder length."->Prologue13b][$hairlength to "shoulder length"]] [["I rather like my long hair. Just give me a trim."->Prologue13a][$hairlength to "long"]]

<<set $haveMetGyarji to true>><<set $haveMetAveserpequ to true>> A long, drawn out sigh comes from the Captain. " I can't-" You frown. "I'd rather stab myself with her scissors than change my mind." In a slow, threatening tone you say, <<if $hairlength is "short">>"//Cut my hair//." <<elseif $hairlength is "long">>"//Trim my hair//." <</if>> The Captain taps $rohis fingers on $rohis forearm, making soft clinking sounds with each tap. In the corner of your eye you can see the hairdresser trying to distract herself. "Shoulder length," the Captain finally says. Before you can even process what you're doing, you grab the hairdresser's scissors from her hands and point it to your throat. "I told you. <<if $hairlength is "short">>//Cut it//." <<elseif $hairlength is "long">>//Trim//."<</if>> "Please don't," you hear the hairdresser softly say, mostly to herself. These scissors may be her only pair. Or... she would rather not see someone stab themselves in front of her. "Fine," the Captain hisses. You sneer victoriously. As you hand the tool back to the hairdresser, you say, "My life may be over now that I'm in //his// hands, but it may as well be with how I want to look." You turn to the hairdresser and put on your best smile. "I'm in your care." "Of course," the hairdresser practically sighs out with a weary smile. She's holding her scissors close to her heart now. <<if $hairlength is "short">>When the tension fades, the hairdresser washes your hair thoroughly- there wasn't much you could do with it while traveling- before cutting it. She styles it out of your face before handing you a mirror. <<elseif $hairlength is "long">>The hairdresser washes your hair thoroughly- there wasn't much you could do with it while traveling- before trimming it. She braids it out of your face before handing you a mirror. <</if>> "There you are, my lady," she says formally, assuming you're important by the fact you're walking around with a Captain. "Is it to your liking?" You take yourself in. You hadn't really thought much of it, but you look more frail than you imagined. "Yes," you hear yourself say, "you've done a marvelous job, thank you." The words ran rom your mouth, as if you had said the same thing hundreds of times before. Though, you supposed you had, back when your life was calm and peaceful. Perhaps the gift of gab never left you. You feel a burning on your throat. A familiar, unwelcome feeling that made your chest feel lighter. New markings magically appear higher on your throat, lines curving and joining and stretching out. A familiar voice calls to you, their ethereal voice singing, "//In the tapestry of life, may the threads of your speech be vibrant and colorful, creating a masterpiece of connection and shared understanding. Embrace the gift of gab, and may it be a blessing to you and all who are touched by the magic of your words.//" You crinkle your nose. The gods truly don't understand when bad timing is really //very bad timing.// Your eyes meet the hairdresser's in the mirror. Her face is slack with shock, mouth slightly agape. She blinks and her brows furrow. Confusion. She glances at the Captain before going back to you. A look of understanding and pity washes over her. The hairdresser approaches you to take the mirror back, but when she does, she whispers in your ear, "May the gods watch over you, My Sovereign." She offers you a small, comforting smile. You watch as she glides away to clean her booth. Surely she wouldn't spread the news of a Sovereign being alive... right? "How much will this have been?" the Captain asks, scaring you from your thoughts. The hairdresser doesn't look up as she responds. "Very well. I'll have someone deliver the money to you." "Uh-" You turn to the Captain in disbelief. "You didn't even bring money with you?" The Captain remains quiet. "I can't believe this. Even if you work for a tyrant, //you// don't have to be awful." "He is not a tyrant," the Captain hisses. "Next time you say anything of the sort, I'll have your tongue." You shake your head in disgust. How could you //not// insult the man who //slaughtered// your family? The hairdresser seems to agree, with the look on her face. "Come now. We'll be late." You let out a long sigh, putting your hand over your face. "Oh, the burdens of being chained to your bidding." "His Excellency //could// have sent you to ''Gyarji''." You crinkle your nose as your hand drops to your side. "Fine." You reluctantly get to your feet. "I //guess// Myopa is better than that place." ---- [[Continue->Prologue14]]

<<set $haveMetGyarji to true>><<set $haveMetAveserpequ to true>> "Very good," is all the Captain says. The hairdresser washes your hair thoroughly- there wasn't much you could do with it while traveling- before cutting and styling it. She hands you a mirror when she's finished. "There you are, my lady," she says formally, assuming you're important by the fact you're walking around with a Captain. "Is it to your liking?" You take yourself in. You hadn't really thought much of it, but you look more frail than you imagined. "Yes," you hear yourself say, "you've done a marvelous job, thank you." The words ran from your mouth, as if you had said the same thing hundreds of times before. Though, you supposed you had, back when your life was calm and peaceful. Perhaps the gift of gab never left you. You feel a burning on your throat. A familiar, unwelcome feeling that made your chest feel lighter. New markings magically appear higher on your throat, lines curving and joining and stretching out. A familiar voice calls to you, their ethereal voice singing, "//In the tapestry of life, may the threads of your speech be vibrant and colorful, creating a masterpiece of connection and shared understanding. Embrace the gift of gab, and may it be a blessing to you and all who are touched by the magic of your words.//" You crinkle your nose. The gods truly don't understand when bad timing is really //very bad timing.// Your eyes meet the hairdresser's in the mirror. Her face is slack with shock, mouth slightly agape. She blinks and her brows furrow. Confusion. She glances at the Captain before going back to you. A look of understanding and pity washes over her. The hairdresser approaches you to take the mirror back, but when she does, she whispers in your ear, "May the gods watch over you, My Sovereign." She offers you a small, comforting smile. You watch as she glides away to clean her booth. Surely she wouldn't spread the news of a Sovereign being alive... right? "How much will this have been?" the Captain asks, scaring you from your thoughts. The hairdresser doesn't look up as she responds. "Very well. I'll have someone deliver the money to you." "Uh-" You turn to the Captain in disbelief. "You didn't even bring money with you?" The Captain remains quiet. "I can't believe this. Even if you work for a tyrant, //you// don't have to be awful." "He is not a tyrant," the Captain hisses. "Next time you say anything of the sort, I'll have your tongue." You shake your head in disgust. How could you //not// insult the man who //slaughtered// your family? The hairdresser seems to agree, with the look on her face. "Come now. We'll be late." You let out a long sigh, putting your hand over your face. "Oh, the burdens of being chained to your bidding." "His Excellency //could// have sent you to ''Gyarji''." You crinkle your nose as your hand drops to your side. "Fine." You reluctantly get to your feet. "I //guess// Myopa is better than that place." ---- [[Continue->Prologue14]]

* //Codex Updated!// As you leave with the Captain, $rohe actually speaks to you. "I hadn't noticed your tattoo goes so far up your neck." You glance at $rohim. Had $rohe seen? "Yes, it's a hassle when people expect a young woman to look, well, bare." "Then why get them?" Your hands clench into fists. You have to fight to not say that you never really wanted them, that they were forced upon you. "A little too much to drink can make you do all sorts of stupid, vacuous things," you lie. The Captain hums quietly. A few moment of silence pass before they question, "What do you think of Myopa?" //Is $rohe trying to make small talk?// You think briefly, eyes wandering over the architecture. "It's quite... brilliant. Quality and... //brightness//... wise." It almost hurts to look around. "Though I favor the shadows. It makes me feel..." you pause. //Like a carefree child again.// You clear your throat, pushing that thought aside. "I've always wondered what the grand citadel looks like. To have the most profound minds under one roof must be a sight to see." //And now you're rambling.// "Although, what I've heard of the Moonshadow Palace is all but lacking. To step into its halls and behold the wonders it holds..." //Can you please shut your mouth? Are you this desperate to hold a conversation?// "And the Twilight Bazaar... imagine all the people, the trading, the lying, the vying..." "You sound quite enamored." "Why wouldn't I be? Myopa is the //City of Eternal Shadows//. You can hear about it across the realm!" Your excitement dies as fast as it bubbled. //Home had a similar effect, back in the day.// You sigh heavily, shaking your head. //This isn't the time to get depressed, $name.// You look to the soldier. "Anyways. I guess I'm sorry I was so dramatic about not cutting my hair. It's just... it reminds me of my mother." You shrug, trying to think of it lightly. "I apologize." Those words make you pause. Did a soldier, //a Captain//, of the tyrant, just... sympathize with you? A "huh?" leaves your lips before you can think more on the matter. "I- Was I wrong? It sounds like you lost her." Your head spins. "Yeah," you say slowly, "yeah, I lost her a long time ago." It felt weird admitting that out loud. "If you don't mind my asking, how long ago was it?" You laugh incredulously at $rohim. //So $rohe doesn't know who you are.// "Seventeen years." You pause. You know $rohe had threatened your tongue, but... "When the tyrant was slaughtering everyone who was in his way to the throne." A soft "oh" is your only reply. You couldn't imagine such a soft sound coming from a soldier had you not heard it yourself. The journey then on was quiet. You couldn't place what was the exact cause was, but you assume it had to be something with Rhelin being the cause of your family's death. The Captain had sounded surprised, perhaps regretful. <<if $height is "short">>The Captain leads you into a nice-looking building, up a flight of stairs and into a private room. $roHe tells you to sit, and you do so with a suave of sarcasm, but it falls short when your feet can't touch the ground. What is it with Myopa and tall chairs? Though, to your surprise, the Captain leaves not long after you sat. You look around the small room. You're sitting at a small, basic table. The floor is adorned with a white and gold rug. There are no windows, so a lit chandelier is your only source of light. Bookshelves line the walls with not enough books to fill them. You start to swing your legs back and forth when the door opens and the Captain walks inside. $roHe closes the door behind $rohimself before sitting across from you. <<elseif $height is "average">>The Captain leades you into a nice-looking building, up a flight of stairs and into a private room. $roHe tells you to sit, and you do so with a suave of sarcasm. To your surprise, however, the Captain leaves not long after you do so. You look around the small room. You're sitting at a small, basic table. The floor is adorned with a white and gold rug. There are no windows, so a lit chandelier is your only source of light. Bookshelves line the walls with not enough books to fill them. The door opens and the Captain walks inside. $roHe closes the door behind $rohimself before sitting across from you. <<elseif $height is "tall">>The Captain leads you into a nice-looking building, up a flight of stairs and into a private room. $roHe tells you to sit, and you do so with a suave of sarcasm, but it falls short when your knees hit the small table. To your surprise, however, the Captain leaves not long after you sat. You look around the small room. You're sitting at a small, basic table. The floor is adorned with a white and gold rug. There are no windows, so a lit chandelier is your only source of light. Bookshelves line the walls with not enough books to fill them. You start to hit your legs together aimlessly when the door opens and the Captain walks inside. $roHe closes the door behind $rohimself before sitting across from you.<</if>> "Is this a date?" you ask, voice saturated in sarcasm. "No," the Captain simply replies. $roHe reaches up and takes $rohis helmet off. You're surprised to see that the captain is far more attractive then you thought $rohe'd be. ---- [[A furious blush comes over you as you remember what you just said.->Prologue15]]

<<set $haveMetYsmri to true>><<set $haveMetUthim to true>><<set $haveMetPhanyr to true>><<set $haveMetEvaliina to true>> //Oh gods, why did I say that?// You turn your head away, too aware of how warm you feel. "On behalf of the Empire, this is an interrogation," the Captain continues, not missing a beat... and not noticing how flustered you are. "I am ''Ysmri'' and I will be conducting this meeting." You glance back at the Captain. At //Ysmri//. $roHe's looking down at a piece of paper. As $tohe reads aloud, $rohe tucks a loose strand of $rohis blonde hair behind $rohis ear. "Do you hereby recognize this as an authentic interrigation decreed by His Excellency, High Emperor Rhelin Thurald?" $roHis gray eyes lift to yours. You stare right back. You've heard of gray eyes, but to see them firsthand... $roHe lets out a sigh. "You have to answer." Only then do you realize there's a scar on $rohis chin. Are you staring too much? "Sure," you say, looking away. "Name." "$name." "Last?" You glance back at $rohim. $roHe had taken off the gauntlet on $rohis right hand to write. $roHis eyes are down, letting you revel in $rohis beauty. "Oh. Um." //Technically it would be Sovereign.// "None." "Date of birth." "The eleventh of Pale Beginings. Four hundred and thirty-six of the Reigning." "Place of birth." //How would $rohe react?// Before you can think more, you admit, "The Grand Palace." $roHe stops writing to look up at you. $roHis brows furrow together. "The Grand Palace?" $rohe questions. //There's no way I can take that back, is there?// "That's right." $roHe hums lightly, eyes lowering. They stop at your throat for a brief second before going back to $rohis paper. "Age." "Twenty-four." "Have you ever come into contact with magic?" "Yes." "Have you ever been injured by magic?" "Yes." "What type of magic caused the injury?" "Which time?" $roHis frown deepends, but $rohe doesn't look up at you. "Each." You have to think for this one. There was one time ''Uthim'' burned your hand, ''Evaliina'' froze your tongue and mouth, ''Phanyr'' eletrecuted you, your father accidentally gave you whiplash when showing you a wind move... "Uh... can I just say yes?" For a brief moment $rohis face is filled with horror, but $rohe quickly regains $rohis composure. "Were these accidents or on purpose?" Evaliina's was definitely on purpose, but you're not sure about your other siblings. Your father's was, of course, on accident. He cried a lot that day. "Both." $roHe sets down $rohis quill with such force you think $rohe broke the thing. "Both!" $rohe yells in disbelief. "What were you doing to get hurt so much by //magic//?" You shrug lightly. "Growing up with Sovereigns will do that to you." $roHe lets out a curt laugh. "To think they were chosen by gods." You know that remark was meant more for $rohimself, but you can't help but feel offended. $roHe's insulting your dead family right in front of you. "They were children!" you yell critically, fist pounding on the table. "Magical children are //bound// to do stupid, insidious things with power they don't understand!" <<if $height is "short">>You struggle to easily stand, being so close to the table, but when you do get to your feet, you cry, "You think that they asked for such power? The power to burn cities, to cast the world into eternal winter, to destroy things with just a snap of their fingers?" Your arms are trembling. "They didn't ask for any of it. And a man too blind to see cut their heads off because of it." You turn, placing a hand over your mouth. All of a sudden you feel sick and weak. Tears stream down your face as you remember them. Uthim, the eldest. He always had a sense of knowing where he belonged. He was fourteen. Phanyr, the second eldest. He always seemed to just know what you needed. He was eleven. And Evaliin, the second youngest. She always knew how to get into trouble and have fun. She was nine. //Gods, they didn't deserve it.// You have to steady yourself against a bookcase, after shoving your chair to the ground, to keep yourself upright. //How could the gods let their chosen children die like that? They were just... just children.// <<elseif $height is "average">>You stand with such force your chair topples over itself. "You think that they asked for such power? The power to burn cities, to cast the world into eternal winter, to destroy things with just a snap of their fingers?" Your arms are trembling. "They didn't ask for any of it. And a man too blind to see cut their heads off because of it." You turn, placing a hand over your mouth. All of a sudden you feel sick and weak. Tears stream down your face as you remember them. Uthim, the eldest. He always had a sense of knowing where he belonged. He was fourteen. Phanyr, the second eldest. He always seemed to just know what you needed. He was eleven. And Evaliin, the second youngest. She always knew how to get into trouble and have fun. She was nine. //Gods, they didn't deserve it.// You have to steady yourself against a bookcase to keep yourself upright. //How could the gods let their chosen children die like that? They were just... just children.// <<elseif $height is "tall">>You spring to your feet, knees hitting the table and making your chair fall over. "You think that they asked for such power? The power to burn cities, to cast the world into eternal winter, to destroy things with just a snap of their fingers?" Your arms are trembling. "They didn't ask for any of it. And a man too blind to see cut their heads off because of it." You turn, placing a hand over your mouth. All of a sudden you feel sick and weak. Tears stream down your face as you remember them. Uthim, the eldest. He always had a sense of knowing where he belonged. He was fourteen. Phanyr, the second eldest. He always seemed to just know what you needed. He was eleven. And Evaliin, the second youngest. She always knew how to get into trouble and have fun. She was nine. //Gods, they didn't deserve it.// You have to steady yourself against a bookcase to keep yourself upright. //How could the gods let their chosen children die like that? They were just... just children.// <</if>> The quiet room is filled only with the sounds of your muffled cries and soft curses. The pain, the grief, the loneliness, the misery, the knowledge, the //agony//. You can't escape it. It's like a ribbon cage, wrapping around you so many times, threatening to take your last breath... You hiss in surprise and pain as your chest burns. You stumble from the bookshelf and touch where the pain was. The ethearal voice sings, //"May the gift of pain be a wellspring of resilience, forging strength within you that withstands the tests of time. In grief, may you discover the profound depths of your heart, recognizing that sorrow is the shadow of love. May your tears cleanse the wounds of loss, leaving behind a reservoir of cherished memories that endure. Loneliness, though a challenging companion, may it be a teacher of self-discovery. May you learn to be your own best company, finding solace in the quiet moments and discovering the richness that solitude can bring to the soul. Misery, a fleeting visitor in life's grand tapestry, may it be a contrast that magnifies the beauty of joy. Knowledge, a powerful gift, may it be a lantern guiding you through the darkest paths. In agony, may you uncover the profound depths of your own strength. May pain be the crucible where your resilience is tested and refined, forging a spirit that can endure even the harshest trials."// You look down at your chest, seeing bits and pieces of the new marking. "Gods prevail..." you mutter, exasperated. You haven't had two markings appear in a single year before, let alone a day. You freeze. You haven't had a single marking appear in the last //seventeen years//. Which must mean... ---- * //Characters Updated!// [[This is your destiny.->Ch1]]

!Chained Sovereign !!Chapter One !!!The Grand Palace "Good morning, $name," a kind voice says. A soft kiss pecks your forehead, stirring you awake. The voice wishes Evaliina a good morning. You slowly open your eyes. Why is Evaliina in your room? Did the both of you get into trouble? Did she want to sleep in your room to avoid being caught? You see your mother's warm smile as she sits on the bed. "Come now, $name. It's time to get up." She turns her head. "You too, Evaliina." Markings weave up from her neck to behind her ears, curling above her temples and stopping above her brows. You hear Evaliina groan and roll over. Mother rolls her eyes, showing you a playful grin. She leans towards you and whispers, "Watch this." She leans back and sighs dramatically. "Oh, Evaliina," she drawls out loudly, "I //know// you and $name put frogs into your father's drink." Evaliina shoots up, scrambling for an apology. You and your mother laugh, earning a glare from her. Your mother taps Evaliina's nose with a finger, almost purely black with markings. "Get up and I'll feign ignorance if he asks." Evaliina couldn't get up faster as she got caught up in your sheets, tumbling to the ground. However, she kept going, tripping once more before hurrying out of the room. Your mother sighs fondly, eyes on the open door for a long moment before turning to you. "Did she rope you into it?" You sheepishly nod. "Oh, that girl..." Your mother shakes her head, but her smile stays. With a stretch, you sit up, eyeing your mother. You know she wouldn't have stayed unless she wanted to say something. And she did. "$name, I want you to know you don't //have// to go along with her schemes. Even if she's your older sister..." she trails off. Her eyes drop to the bed before wandering to the window. The curtains are still closed, but it's like she could see past them with how intently she stared. "Mother?" you softly ask. This wasn't like her. She gently takes your hand, eyes still on the curtains. "I love you, $name. The gods love you. Your father, your brothers and your sister love you." She closes her eyes. In a small voice she whispers, "I am afraid..." "Afraid of what?" Her eyes snap open, whipping over to yours. By how she's looking at your face, you suspect she didn't mean to say that aloud. "Nothing," she says hurriedly, forcing a smile. "Nothing, there's... there's nothing to be afraid of." She holds your head with her free hand and kisses your forehead. Swiftly changing the topic, she says, "Rhelin is coming later today. You remember Rhelin, do you not?" Strange feelings envelop you. Feelings you can't discern. "I remember," you respond quietly, trying to ignore the newfound emotions. "I... want you to do something for me." You nod quaintly. Her hand slips out of yours so she could hold your head with both hands. "Practice in the stables today, alright?" Your brows knit together. You were always told to practice out in the open in case something went wrong. And when it came to you and magic, it //always// went wrong. "Practice in the stables today," she repeats, almost desperately. "Why?" you whisper. "I just... I just have a feeling." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.1]]

!!!Dawn, Moonshadow Palace, Central Myopa You sit in a large banquet hall, the size rivaling the Grand Palace's. You don't take the time to look at the scenery as you glare at the man sitting across from you. The man has the audacity to smile. "Don't be like this, $name. I gifted you some nice clothes, gave you a much needed hair cut and offered you stay at Moonshadow Palace." He pauses. "And now you get to enjoy delicious, authentic Myopan food." "As if," you spit, scowling. His smile wavers. "<<if $gender is "female">>You were always my favorite<<elseif $gender is "male">>I always favored you<</if>>, did you know that? I was almost thrilled when I couldn't find you that day." He picks up a fruit and bites into it, his eyes never leaving yours. "How //did// you escape, $name?" Your hands are clenched into fists, ready to wipe that smug look off his face at any given moment. //With mother's wisdom//, you think. But you would never tell him that. He hums lightly. "I see you've earned yourself some new marks. I'm surprised you're still in the gods' favor, after abandoning the empire for so long." "I wonder why," you say through clenched teeth. He laughs. //He laughs.// You can't help but let out a disgusted noise. Rhelin lifts a beckoning hand. "Captain!" Captain Ysmri, who is a few feet behind you, rounds the long table swiftly to stop at his side. $roHis footsteps are quieter than you expected them to be, considering $rohe's head to toe in iron. "Tell me," he says, adressing $rohim although his eyes are still on you. "How was the trip to Myopa?" With $rohis right hand, $rohe slaps $rohis fist above her heart. "Uneventful, Your Imperial Majesty. It went without disturbance." "Did $name complain about the clothes?" "Not verbally, no." That piques your interest. You remember being quite neutral about them. "I assume $he did something to the hairdresser? I thought I said //shoulder length// hair." "No, not quite..." The Captain hesitates for only a moment before admitting, "$He threatened $his own life with the hairdresser's tools, saying only $he wanted a trim, Your Imperial Majesty. I thought it wise to have $him uninjured for you, hense the... long hair." Rhelin chuckles. "I suppose you //are// your mother's $child. Your hair reminds me of her, actually. The color... <<if $haircolor is "ebony">>ebony, like her heart. <<elseif $haircolor is "chestnut">>chestnut, the same as the mud she forced innocents to slumber in. <<elseif $haircolor is "blonde">>blonde, far too pure for a witch such as her. <<elseif $haircolor is "red">>red, as the blood seeped from her victims and into her hair.<</if>> "You take that back," you hiss, feeling your face flush with anger. "Stay seated," he says simply, "or have your head as my newest trophy, $name." You throw your fist onto the table, making the dishes jump a few //feet// in the air, the wood under your fist cracking with large spinters. You yell in anger, unable tell if there's words or not. You notice the table is buckling slightly after your strike. Your eyes shoot up at Rhelin's and you pause. You thought he'd be upset, or at least //frowning//. But no. He's smiling widely at you, a wicked look in his eyes. "So... you //do// still have magic." He leans back and lets out a soft laugh. "And here I thought you lost the gift, seeing how miserably effortless it was to catch you." You practically growl at him. "Hmm." He loses his smile. "No need to say anything. I already know what your sad problem is." He adjusts himself, glancing at the food which is now strewn about wildly. "You never learned to control it. In fact, you lost what control you //did// have." His eyes dance to yours. "In other words, you're useless." His smile reappears. "But not to me." He gets to his feet, pacing ever so slightly. "In fact, you're //my// savior! Now that I know you at least have some sorcery, I can use you to your fullest extent!" "I'll never work for you, Rhelin." You hadn't meant to say that out loud, but you guess it doesn't matter either way. Rhelin puts his hands on the table and leans forward. "I expect that much from you, $name. Truly, I'm ecstatic to learn you're everything I ever hoped for." Straightening and turning to the Captain, he says, "Change of plans. Have $him kept in Lord Baerukrat's estate until further notice." "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty." "Keep an eye on $him, Captain. You do this with minimal fault, your family shall be welcomed into the arms of nobility." Without another word, he leaves the room. You finally get to your feet, seething. How //dare// he talk about your mother that way? How //dare// he insinuate you're nothing but a pawn in his oh so grand scheme? ---- [[Scream->Ch1.2a]] [[Kick the table->Ch1.2b]]

<<set $breakfastOutburst to 0>> You scream as loud as you can, hands clawing through your hair. When your out of breath, you stumble back a few paces. You blink slowly, coming back to the present. The Captain is eyeing you angrily, helmet no where to be see and hands over $rohis ears. You see broken glass everywhere- on the table, on the ground, on the chairs... Your head feels light. You stumble back a few feet before plopping onto your butt. You groan loudly, a migraine overcoming you. With your head down, your $hairlength $haircolor hair falls in front of you. Your throat //burns//. "What in the world did you just do?" you flinch at the Captain's voice. Why was it so loud? You rub your face slowly. What //did// you do? Your mind wanders to your father. Oftentimes when he needed to settle the council, he would infuse magic with his voice to make it tenfold. Is that what you did? Make your voice louder? No, it wasn't just louder. It was... //more//. More volume, more pitch, more definition, more air. "$name?" You brush your hair away to look at the Captain, wincing at how bright it was. You open your mouth to speak, but only air leaves your lips. Was this the cost? Being voiceless? For how long? You grip your aching head. Your questions aren't helping the pain. "Look," $rohe says in a quiet voice, "I'm... I hadn't meant to upset you the other day. During the interview. I should have kept my opinions to myself." You nod, agreeing with $rohim. $roHe really should have kept $rohis mouth shut about your family. Your //dead// family. "I've never seen the Sovereigns... in any good light. That's why I feel the way I do. I apologize." $roHe hesitates before saying, "I see you care deeply for your family. I am sorry for what happened to them." //And yet you still bow to the monster who happened to them.// You push $rohim away, instantly regretting as sparks light your vision. $roHe grabs your arm, lifting you to your feet. "Rest at Lord Baerukrat's. You'll be thankful." ---- [[You desperately wanted to tell Ysmri to shut up.->Ch1.3]]

<<set $breakfastOutburst to 1>> You swivel and kick the table as hard you can, watching as it snaps, pieces flying everywhere before it thuds to the ground in two pieces. You slowly spin in a circle before throwing fist down on it, making it split into even more pieces. You take a few steps back and blink slowly, coming out of your mindless rage and into the present. The Captain is eyeing you warily, helmet under $rohis arm. $roHe had put some distance between $rohimself and the now broken table. You see wood everywhere- on the table, on the ground, on the chairs, in the ceiling, in the walls... Your body feels light. You stumble back a few feet before plopping on your butt. You groan loudly, thinking your muscles are torn. With your head up, your $hairlength $haircolor hair falls out of your face, letting you take in deep, pained breaths. "How in the world did you just do that?" the Captain asks. "That table was a few //feet// thick." "What do you //think// I did?" Your mind wanders to your mother. Oftentimes when she needed to save lives, she would infuse magic with her muscles to break the strongest, most durable walls. You suppose Rhelin is right. You //are// like your mother. You're unsure if you want to be, though. "$name?" Your eyes flutter open to look at the Captain, suddenly in front of you. "I'm surprised you care enough to use my name." $roHe ignores your snide remark. "Look," $rohe says, "I'm... I hadn't meant to upset you the other day. During the interview. I should have kept my opinions to myself." You nod, agreeing with $rohim. $roHe really should have kept $rohis mouth shut about your family. Your //dead// family. "I've never seen the Sovereigns... in any good light. That's why I feel the way I do. I apologize." $roHe hesitates before saying, "I see you care deeply for your family. I am sorry for what happened to them." //And yet you still bow to the monster who happened to them.// You try to raise your arm to push $rohim away, but you can only lift it an inch from the ground before your whole arm flares up in pain. You groan. $roHe grabs your arm, which throws you into suffering beyond belief, before lifting you to your feet, which also hurts incredibly nasty, and throws you over $rohis shoulder. "Rest at Lord Baerukrat's. You'll be thankful." "Oh, shut //up//," you whine. ---- [[You'd hit Ysmri if that wouldn't be painful.->Ch1.3]]

!!!Dusk, Guest Room at Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa The room you're in is nice. The expected four poster bed, a small velvet couch, two armchairs, a small coffee table, paintings of something, you didn't care enough to look closely. There's also a wardrobe and dresser. A small balcony is filtering in cool air. You don't care much for it. You've been in Evaliina's room, so you know what true, unadulterated wealth looks like. Lord Baerukrat's physician is in the room, alongside Captain Ysmri. The elderly man is shaking, from arthritis or nerves, you can't tell. "Deduction?" the Captain simply asks as the man leans away from you. The man shakily grips his spectacle, bringing it closer to his eye. He licks his dry lips before speaking. "I don't know what's going on," he admits. You roll your eyes. That was obvious. You're a //Sovereign//. A normal doctor is useless when it comes to God-blessed magic-infused bodies. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"From what I can tell, however," he continues, either not noticing or ignoring how frustrated you are, "that this $noble's body is doing its best to heal. Since I've been here, $his voice has steadily come back. I suppose that's what the clawing was about, earlier." You scoff, then flinch when your throat bursts into flames. You grip your throat, trying to stop the pain. Maybe you should get your temper under control. The doctor lifts a brow. "Anyway." His face goes neutral as he steps away. "I think, as long as $his body keeps doing... what magic it is, $he'll be quite fine. If $he does, however, stop healing, call for me. I'll do what I can." Captain Ysmri inclines $rohis head. "Of course. Thank you." The man hums, glancing at you. His old green eyes take in your markings with precision. It's almost as if he knows what they mean. He clears his throat. "It would be a shame to lose what Sovereign we have." He shoots you a wink before he stumbles away and out the door, a wry laugh leaving his lips as the door closes. You're impressed he said such a thing with Rhelin's Captain in the same room. Though, you suppose your tongue would be as loose if you were his age. Maybe the Captain is oblivious and thought he meant Rhelin. That would be quite funny. The Captain steps closer to the bed. $roHis helmet is off and $rohis shoulder length blonde hair is free. $roHe throws a journal and pen onto the bed. "So... you like to break things." $roHis gray eyes meet yours. You roll your eyes, taking the items. You assume $rohe'll make you talk. "Including yourself." $roHe takes another step forward. "Why were you injured? I wasn't aware magic could..." $rohe trails off, as if unsure how to convey $rohis feelings. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"From what I can tell, however," he continues, either not noticing or ignoring how frustrated you are, "that this $noble’s body is doing its best to heal. Since I've been here, $his elbow's tendon has, er... connected back with the bone. I suppose that's what the yelling was about, earlier." "No," you say slowly, "I just like scaring old men." You scoff, then groan when your shoulder bursts into flames. Maybe you should get your temper under control. The doctor lifts a brow. "Anyway." His face goes neutral as he steps away. "I think, as long as $his body keeps doing... what magic it is, $he'll be quite fine. If $he does, however, stop healing, call for me. I'll do what I can." Captain Ysmri inclines $rohis head. "Of course. Thank you." The man hums, glancing at you. His old green eyes take in your markings with precision. It's almost as if he knows what they mean. "It would be a shame to lose what Sovereign we have." He shoots you a wink before he stumbles away and out the door, a wry laugh leaving his lips as the door closes. You're impressed he said such a thing with Rhelin's Captain in the same room. Though, you suppose your tongue would be as loose if you were his age. Maybe the Captain is oblivious and thought he meant Rhelin. That would be quite funny. The Captain steps closer to the bed. $roHis helmet is off and $rohis shoulder length blonde hair is free. "So... you like to break things." $roHis gray eyes meet yours. You roll your eyes. "Including yourself." $roHe takes another step forward. "Why were you injured? I wasn't aware magic could..." $rohe trails off, as if unsure how to convey her feelings.<</if>> ---- [[Tell the truth. You don't mind, or care, if Ysmri knows.->Ch1.4a]] [[Deflect. You're not sure if your enemy should be aware.->Ch1.4b]]

<<set $tellYsmri to 0>><<set $friendshipY to += 10>> <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"//It's because I can't control it//," you write, showing her briefly. A small, empty laugh escapes your lips. "//I've never been able to control it. It drove my father crazy. He couldn't understand why. None of them could//." You bite your lip. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"It's because I can't control it," you admit, easier than you thought it'd be. A small, empty laugh escapes your lips. "I've never been able to control it. It drove my father crazy. He couldn't understand why. None of them could." You bite your lip. <</if>> Magic came easily to Phanyr, though he never abused it. He favored foresight, like your mother. That's why, whenever you were having a rough time, he'd randomly appear with some sweets or a few encouraging words. On the other hand, it took Evaliina a few years to get the hang of it, mostly because she used it to have fun rather than help out. Like that time she froze your mouth... Even now you have a hard time forgiving her for that. You nearly got frostbite! In your //mouth//! Still, there was Uthim. He was never particularly fond of magic. He would rather spend time with horses or with a wooden sword. However, when he needed to, he was proficient for rarely using it. And then there was you. The youngest. Your parents had such high hopes. You could have been the one to use your magic for all sorts of things, had it been foresight or healing or offense. They would have taken anything, they didn't mind. But... you were a //disaster//. When you tried conjuring wind, a tornado would spiral; when you tried creating a simple snowflake, a mountain of ice would climb; when you tried moving a boulder, the ground would split with tremors. And that day, in the stables, when all you wanted was a spark... Gods, you //are// useless. "I can't imagine magic being... conquerable," the Captain says in a small voice. Oh, right. $roHe's here. Captain Ysmri is sitting now, hands neatly in $rohis lap. $roHis gray eyes are still on you. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You let out a small hum, regretting it instantly. "//You don't have to imagine. It's impossible now, anyways. Those who had are dead and the only one with magic is, well, incapable of anything//." <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>You let out a small hum. "You don't have to imagine. It's impossible now, anyways. Those who had are dead and the only one //with// magic is, well, incapable of anything."<</if>> A small, amused smile appears on $rohis lips. "Tell that to the table." "Ah, yes, the //table//!" a loud voice calls from the balcony. The Captain jumps to $rohis feet, sword suddenly in hand. A scowl settles on $rohis face as $rohe seems to recognize the trespasser. You struggle to sit up, trying to see whoever invaded the room. "Good evening, Captain. It's dreadful to see you, but I suppose it was inevitable." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.5]]

<<set $tellYsmri to 1>> <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"//Being injured is something easy to do//," you write, showing $rohim briefly. A small, scratchy laugh escapes your lips. You've never been able to control it. It drove your father crazy. He couldn't understand why. None of them could. You bite your lip. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Being injured is something easy to do," you deflect. A small, empty laugh escapes your lips. You've never been able to control it. It drove your father crazy. He couldn't understand why. None of them could. You bite your lip. <</if>> Magic came easily to Phanyr, though he never abused it. He favored foresight, like your mother. That's why, whenever you were having a rough time, he'd randomly appear with some sweets or a few encouraging words. On the other hand, it took Evaliina a few years to get the hang of it, mostly because she used it to have fun rather than help out. Like that time she froze your mouth... Even now you have a hard time forgiving her for that. You nearly got frostbite! In your //mouth//! Still, there was Uthim. He was never particularly fond of magic. He would rather spend time with horses or with a wooden sword. However, when he needed to, he was proficient for rarely using it. And then there was you. The youngest. Your parents had such high hopes. You could have been the one to use your magic for all sorts of things, had it been foresight or healing or offense. They would have taken anything, they didn't mind. But... you were a //disaster//. When you tried conjuring wind, a tornado would spiral; when you tried creating a simple snowflake, a mountain of ice would climb; when you tried moving a boulder, the ground would split with tremors. And that day, in the stables, when all you wanted was a spark... Gods, you //are// useless. The Captain hums lightly. "I suppose you're right," $rohe says in a small voice. Oh, right. $roHe's here. Captain Ysmri is sitting now, hands neatly in $rohis lap. $roHis gray eyes are still on you. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You let out a small hum, regretting it instantly. "//Anyways, magic impossible now. Those who were talented are dead and the only one with magic is, well, incapable of anything.//."<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"Anyways, magic is impossible now. Those who were talented are dead and the only one //with// magic is, well, incapable of anything." <</if>> A small, amused smile appears on $rohis lips. "Tell that to the table." "Ah, yes, the //table//!" a loud voice calls from the balcony. The Captain jumps to $rohis feet, sword suddenly in hand. A scowl settles on $rohis face as $rohe seems to recognize the trespasser. You struggle to sit up, trying to see whoever invaded the room. "Good evening, Captain. It's dreadful to see you, but I suppose it was inevitable." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.5]]

<<set $haveMetVaenath to true>> A charming $rogendersing is leaning against the balcony, red hair pulled back into a long, long braid. $roHis freckled face is smiling widely, showing off a pair of dimples. $roHe has a few feathers in $rohis hair, which you can't discern as purposeful or accidental. $roHe's wearing tight leather, red cloth tied around $rohim in a few places. Though, in the front, you're quite positive the amount of skin showing was definitely on purpose. On $rohis back is an impressive crossbow with detailed carvings, and on $rohis hips what looks to be a pair of short swords. $roHis green eyes flit to you. "And good evening to you, my Sovereign!" $roHe bows, painfully theatrical. Captain Ysmri groans, lowering $rohis sword slightly. "What are //you// doing here?" The $rogendersing waves a hand, ignoring the Captain's question as $rohe makes $rohis way farther into the room. "Now, I hear the Sovereign hurt herself. How did you let that happen? I thought you were a good little doggy." $roHe passes by Captain Ysmri, taking the seat the Captain was just using, a knowing smirk settling onto $rohis lips. The Captain furrows $rohis brows. "I'm no dog," $rohe mutters dejectedly as $rohe sheaths her blade. The $rogendersing turns to you as $rohe gets comfortable on the chair. "I've always wanted to meet a Sovereign. You're not exactly what I was imagining, but whatever." $roHe offers a smile nonetheless. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You raise a brow, catching the Captain dragging another chair over in the corner of your eye. "//Who are you?//" you write. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Right..." you say slowly, catching the Captain dragging another chair over in the corner of your eye. "But, uh... //who// are you?"<</if>> The $rogendersing tsks. "Don't the Gods tell you anything?" You frown. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"//Doesn't the sky tell you when it's going to rain?//" <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Doesn't the sky tell you when it's going to rain?" <</if>> "Hm." $roHe glances at Captain Ysmri. "I like $him." "Why should I care?" the Captain shoots back, finally sitting. "Because my opinion is the best, obviously." $roHe turns back to you. "My birth, a miracle. My looks, dubious. My style, perfection. My name, ''Vaenath Euclav''." "Do you have that rehearsed?" the Captain asks, sounding appalled. Vaenath groans. "Of course I do. I can't walk up to the Godsent $gender and stutter out my name like a lovesick child." You snort out a laugh, then start coughing. It's been a long, long time since anyone's been nervous to approach you. It feels almost... nostalgic? Refreshing? "Yeah, giggle about it, daughter of //Gods//," Vaenath mutters. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"//Sorry//," you write with a smile. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Sorry," you say with a smile. <</if>>Though, you don't feel very sorry. The Captain slaps Vaenath with a hand, earning a clang from $rohis armor and an "ow" from the redhead. "Why are you here, Vae?" Ysmri asks, sounding tired of Vaenath's presense. Your brows rise in shock. You'd never imagine the //Captain// using nicknames, let alone to a $man $rohe seems to despise. Vaenath throws $rohis feet up and onto the bed with a grin. "I was hired by your master to add a little more protection to Sovereign dearest." A noise of disgust leaves Ysmri's lips. $roHe eyes Vaenath's feet atop the duvet with a scowl, but keeps $rohis mouth shut. "I look forward to working with you too, lamb." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"//You're a mercenary?//" you guess. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"You're a mercenary?" you guess. <</if>> "That's right. Don't worry, you're in good hands." $roHe glances at Ysmri. "I guess Ysmri is a //little// good with $rohis handed down blade." "A handed down blade that will go straight through your heart if-" the Captain stops $rohimself. $roHe lets out a long breath, shoulders slumping. "You've certainly upgraded your threatening levels," Vaenath mutters, scooting away from Ysmri. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>A pained gasp leaves your lips as you feel //something// excruciating happens in your upper chest. You groan and claw at the base of your throat in agony. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>A pained gasp leaves your lips as an audible pop rings through the room. You groan and grab your leg in agony.<</if>> "What in the glorious heavens?" Vaenath wonders aloud, pulling $rohis feet off the bed. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"Her, um, voice," the Captain explains, "is repairing itself, I guess."<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"My knee," you say through grit teeth, "popped back into place." <</if>> "Oh, yuck," Vaenath blurts out with a shiver. "Are you going to do more gross stuff?" You give $rohim a thumbs-up, the pain subsiding. Vaenath gets to $rohis feet. "I'll... be outside while you do your nasty... whatever that is." $roHe shoots you hesitant finger guns as $rohe turns and hurries to the balcony. $roHe hops over the railing, falling out of view. You turn to Ysmri, mouth open in shock and concern. The Captain waves $rohis hand. "$roHe's survived falling off the Moonshadow Palace's roof. This is nothing." The Moonshadow Palace is at //least// four stories tall... ---- [[Just what did you get yourself into?->Ch1.6]]

* //Characters Updated!// !!!Morning, Dining Room at Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa You steadily look over all the faces present. A burly man, a dashing woman, two young boys, a young girl, a mercenary and a Captain. A strange gathering, considering what's happening. A plate is set in front of you, but you're too engrossed in the topic at hand to even notice. "That's what the blasted man said, I swear to you!" the woman, Lady Philista is saying in a thick Myopan accent, similar to everyone else at the table. "Three gold coins for a vase! A //vase//! Isn't that ridiculous?" "Those wretched traders at the Bazaar are getting more and more greedy," her husband, Lord Baerukrat, added. "I wish His Imperial Majesty could let the guard stab each one of them." Their daughter, Wylna, whined, "I wanted a doll, but he said it was fifty-" "Fifty!" Lord Baerukrat yelled out, looking around like somehow the spirits could answer his rage. "These foreigners are shaking everyone dry! Why are they even allowed in Myopa?" You glance at the mercenary and the Captain. Vaenath is too busy with $rohis meal to even notice, but the Captain rolls $rohis eyes. $roHe pauses, noticing your gaze. $roHe sheepishly continues eating. Seeing your companions eat make you suddenly aware of how hungry you are. You hadn't eaten anything yesterday, seeing Rhelin destroyed your apetite. Though, you're glad he's no where to be seen as you pick up your fork and begin to eat. Lord Baerukrat rubs his face. "Fifty... for a doll..." You don't really know how bad it is. After all, you grew up rich as can be before being forced to pay for only food. You could ask him what that is compared to a well-cooked meal, but you're far too embarrassed even thinking of asking. "Mummy, who's our guests?" Wylna suddenly asks, as if just realizing your presence. "Oh." Lady Philista glances at you, then at Vaenath and Ysmri. "//Oh//." Like mother like daughter, you guess. The lady turns to her husband. "I wasn't aware we had a guests." Lord Baerukrat lifts a brow. "I thought I told you." "Obviously not." The lord clears his throat. "Well... we have the famed mercenary, Vaenath Euclav." At the mention of $rohis name, Vaenath glances up. $roHe gives a food-filled smile when $rohe realizes all attention is on $rohim. Scowling, Ysmri covers the mercenary's mouth with a hand, quietly shaming the redhead. "Captain Ysmri." Ysmri simply nods at the mention of $rohis name. "And... I'm sorry, I don't..." His eyes catch the marking peeking from your throat. He shakes his head and continues, "I don't believe I caught your name." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"No worries," you say in a small, scratchy voice. "It's foreign. My name is $name and I'm grateful that you've let me stay here." You incline your head slightly as you clear your throat. Talking is //not// going to be fun. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"No worries," you easily say. "It's foreign. My name is $name and I'm grateful that you've let me stay here." You incline your head slightly. <</if>> "Oh, I think I've heard of that name before," Lady Philista says thoughtfully. "It was quite a long time ago, however." //How can you recognize a name you heard seventeen years ago//? you wonder, slightly bewildered. Captain Ysmri jumps on this. "Well, it is quite popular where $he hails from. Perhaps that is why." "It is?" Vaenath asks, face stuffed with food. "I thought because $he's a So-" Ysmri shoves another fruit into Vaenath's mouth, nearly making the mercenary choke. The Captain nonchalantly adds, "Yes, you'd remember //any// pretty $noble's name, I know." Lady Philista laughs awkwardly as she glances away. "Don't shove //anything// into my mouth ever again," Vaenath hisses to Ysmri. "But I thought you liked that sort of thing," Ysmri whispers back, eyes never leaving $rohis plate. Vaenath's mouth falls wide open. You're equally shocked. You thought Ysmri was a respectable soldier, and yet... Before anything more can be said, Ysmri sets $rohis silverware onto the table, turning to the both of you. "Finish quickly. We have things to do today." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.7]]

<<set $haveMetSusgalloryct to true>><<set $haveMetLochar to true>> !!!Midday, Twilight Bazaar, Northern Myopa "Potions!" a voice calls out. "Potions for sickness! Potions for disease! Potions for love!" "Silk, straight from across the sea!" "Foreign food! Try food from across the lands!" "Enchanted lockets! Lockets for your enemies or lockets for lovers! All enchanted!" You're trying to look at all the mystical wares, but it's difficult when Vaenath is having to drag you along. So far you've seen an //actual// ''Susgalloryct'', a flaming bow, a moving statue, foods from across the realms, horns from supposed dragons, liquid fire... You're excited to see more. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"Vaenath," you say, voice barely a whisper, your eyes still wandering, "how are you //not// entranced?"<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Vaenath," you say, eyes still wandering, "how are you //not// entranced?"<</if>> "Besides having to do my job?" $roHe pauses. "I grew up here, so it's nothing new." A small shrug is all $rohe offers. "It's amazing," you mutter, a big smile stuck on your face. "And did you see the Susgalloryct? I thought they..." "There was a //Susgalloryct//?" $rohe cries out as $rohe stops. "Why didn't you say anything?" "I thought you saw?" $roHe looks back, straining $rohis neck, trying to see. Ysmri comes from nowhere and grabs the mercenary's shirt. "I thought I said //no distractions//!" "But there was a Susgalloryct!" You can almost hear Ysmri's frown deepen from behind $rohis helmet. "Yes. I saw." Vaenath's face fills with horror. "But I didn't!" "Then go see it." The Captain lets go of $rohis shirt but grabs onto your other arm. Vaenath practically squeals. "You're serious, Mri?" "Go." The mercenary cackles out little "he he hes" as $rohe slinks back into the crowd, retracing the party's steps. "I'm killing $rohim one of these days," the Captain says to $rohimself, dragging you along. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You watch the Captain for a moment before finally asking, "How do you two know each other?"<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>It's hard to keep up with her, your leg isn't fully healed, but you try your best. You watch the Captain for a moment before finally asking, "How do you two know each other?"<</if>> The Captain doesn't answer. "Fine..." You're little butthurt. You distract yourself by looking at the endless stalls, marvelling at their wares. Who knew there would be so much to sell? And then a familiar face flashes by. A familiar face? Your eyes search the crowds. Was that who you thought it was? You think you lost him until you see him at a stall, talking animatedly with the merchant. "''Lochar''!" you try to call out, but you're voice doesn't go above it's normal volume. It's him. It's actually him. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>Suddenly realizing your arm is still surrendered to someone else, you shove the Captain away and race to the man. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>Suddenly realizing your arm is still surrendered to someone else, you shove the Captain away and stumble to the man, ignoring the pain in your leg. <</if>> Lochar looks up, his eyes meet yours. A shocked look comes over him before it settles into relief. A broad smile crosses his features as he lifts his arms. You crash into him, hugging him tightly. As loud as you can be, you say, "Lochar, is it really you?" The man laughs loudly as he hugs you back. "I thought you were your mother for a moment! Oh, it is so good to see you..." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.8]]

* //Characters & Lore Updated!// Lochar pushes you away, hands on your shoulders as he looks you up and down. "My, you have grown! I suppose I can't call you little $nick anymore, can I?" You simply grin up at him. "Why are you in Myopa, hmm? I..." his voice trails off as his eyes focus behind you. You glance back, seeing Captain Ysmri. Your smile falls. //Oh great Gods.// "Get behind me," Lochar says in a tone you've never heard before. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"Wait," you say weakly, putting a hand up. You shoot Ysmri a pleading look. You don't exactly know why you're defending her, but here you are. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Wait," you say, putting a shaking hand up. The motion burns your shoulder. You shoot Ysmri a pleading look. You don't exactly know why you're defending her, but here you are. <</if>> The Captain stays motionless. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"Let's..." You glance around and clear your throat. //Gods, if only my voice returns.// "Let's talk somewhere else." <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Let's..." You glance around. "Let's talk somewhere else." <</if>> Lochar's hands don't move from your shoulders. "Fine," he says gruffly. The Captain, wordlessly, motions for the both of you to follow. She leads you both through the streets, a seemingly scenic route before you're all suddenly seated in a restaurant. Your nerves are through the roof. "Why, exactly, is a Captain of the Traitor with you?" Lochar slowly asks, eyes stuck on Ysmri. "I'm in charge of $his protection," the Captain swiftly replies. "Why would..." Lochar finally looks at you. His eyes scan you once more before he scowls. "Rhelin found you." You nod weakly. "Gods above..." He lets out a long sigh as he rubs a temple. "//Gods above//." "Who are you?" Ysmri asks, posture stiff. Lochar shoots her a glare before turning to you, expression softening. "How long have you been captured?" <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"A few days," you answer, voice scratchy. You try to clear your throat. //This is maddening.// <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"A few days."<</if>> "Haah..." Relief is evident. "Oh, the Gods... Thank the Gods..." He presses his palms together as he looks heavenward. He mutters a small prayer of gratitude. You lean towards him, careful not to say his name now. Though, the Captain might as well know after you screeched it earlier. "Is anyone else safe? Did anyone else... make it?" Lochar frowns. "I... If they have, I haven't run into them. I thought I was the only one to escape." His brown eyes look into yours. "How... I thought Rhelin..." You offer a weak smile. "Mother knew something was wrong." "If she knew, then why... Your silbings..." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"They didn't want to stay in the stables while I practiced." You clear your throat. "They thought it was scary. It... it ended up scary, so..." You rub your hands together, eyes going to the table.<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"They didn't want to stay in the stables while I practiced. They thought it was scary. It... it ended up scary, so..." You rub your hands together, eyes going to the table.<</if>> ---- [[Continue->Ch1.9]]

!!!Evening, Inside the Stables, Grand Palace Evaliina opens the doors. "I don't want to be in here while //$he's// practicing, Uthim. It's scary." Your eyes are on the ground, trying to hold back tears. "Mother told us to stay in here!" Uthim argues, saying that for what felt the millionth time. Phanyr paces. "Well, I'm not staying!" Evaliina screams as she stomps out. Uthim follows. "Evaliina! I'm not letting you get us into trouble! Again!" Phanyr pauses. "Uh." He walks up to you and crouches down so he's closer. "Keep practicing," he encourages. "We'll get Evaliina back in here. And calm her down, too. Don't worry." "Just go," you croak, grabbing your legs and pulling them close. "It's //scary//, isn't it?" Phanyr doesn't fight you on what you said. Your heart breaks from that simple fact. He gets to his feet and leaves, pulling the doors closed. Tears finally fall down your small cheeks. "Stupid Evaliina," you mutter, your head dropping onto your knees. "Stupid Phanyr..." It's not like you don't want control. You do. You //really// do. You just... can't. Your heart aches in your chest. Evaliina and Phanyr are right. You're scary. You're uncontrollable. You're a disaster. You're a failure. ---- [[You're a disappointment.->Ch1.10]]

!!!Midday, In Some Resturaunt, Northern Myopa A hand settles on your shoulder. You look up to Lochar. He smiles gently. "You... The fire, that was you?" "Yeah," you say softly. His grip tighens. "That fire is the only reason I'm still here. Thank you, little $nick." A small smile spreads on your lips. "I thought you said you wouldn't call me that anymore." "How can I not?" He takes his hand off your shoulder. "Touching, really." You all turn, seeing Vaenath with a face full of food. $roHe sits next to Ysmri, putting $rohis feet on the table. "This dad?" Ysmri shoves the mercenary's feet off the table. "Don't be stupid." You stifle a sigh. You wish Lochar was your father. You know, being alive and all. Lochar rolls his shoulders. "I am but a humble servant to my Sovereign." "Huh." Vaenath leans towards him. "Servant how?" This time, Ysmri smacks Vaenath's face. "You could have broken my nose!" Vaenath whines, shoving Ysmri so hard $rohe falls out of her chair. You frown, watching them bicker. Rhelin seriously put you in the //wrong// hands. It would be depressing how easy you could escape. "Who are these two, really?" Lochar asks, leaning towards you. ---- [[Bodyguards. Really bad bodyguards.->Ch1.11a]] [[Your delightful harem. You're joking, of course.->Ch1.11b]]

<<set $friendshipY -= 10>><<set $friendshipV += 10>> "My delightful harem." You pause. "I'm joking, of course." "You inherited your father's humor, I see." He chuckles lightly before going back to being serious. "A Sovereign should have the best warrior as their bodyguard, not... some Captain and a random mercenary from the streets." You almost laugh. "Rhelin would keep the best warrior to himself." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You clear your throat.<</if>> "Hmph. He doesn't deserve it. He cut down your family like cattle. If anything he deserves a butcher as a bodyguard." You've heard the stories. They all sound like that. Butchered. Slaughtered. Head cut off. But... "Do you know? What really happened to them?" "Yes, I..." He gulps. In a small voice, he says, "I saw it." "Can you tell me?" He turns to you. It's like you said something foreign by how he's looking at you. "I... I've been curious, you know? Did they... go fast? Did they suffer? I know... nothing." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You clear your throat, wanting to just rip it out instead. You're going crazy.<</if>> Lochar rubs his large hands together. "I... I can't, I'm sorry." You expected that. You expected that, yet you feel so let down. "It's fine," you manage. Captain Ysmri sits back down, but pushes over Vaenath's chair childishly as $rohe does so. "I've allowed you some time to reconcile, but $name has some things she needs to do before the day ends." Vaenath pulls $rohis chair up and sits on it, shooting Ysmri a glare. "Yippee," you dryly express. Lochar looks to you. "I can-" "Don't," you swiftly shut him down. "You have a life now. I can't..." "My life is nothing if not to serving your bloodline," Lochar retorts, completely serious. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You frown. "Lochar, if you want to serve me, this isn't... I can't just walk away from this. He- Rhelin- //knows// I'm alive. If I suddenly go missing," you clear your throat, "he'll cut through everyone I've even //interacted// with to get to me. I... I can't do that. They can't suffer more because of me."<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>You frown. "Lochar, if you want to serve me, this isn't... I can't just walk away from this. He- Rhelin- //knows// I'm alive. If I suddenly go missing, he'll cut through everyone I've even //interacted// with to get to me. I... I can't do that. They can't suffer more because of me." <</if>> Lochar's knuckles go white, fists shaking. "And, Lochar... You have //freedom//. Don't let it go to waste because of me." "It wouldn't be a waste." You scoff. "Lochar, open your eyes and look at me. You would be miserable. That's a waste of freedom." "I..." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You put a finger to your lips, stopping his thought. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>You put a trembling finger to your lips, stopping his thought.<</if>> He looks away from you. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Gods... You're so much like your mother... I'm failing you both..." "You're failing nobody. Rhelin stole that duty from you when he overthrew the realm. Your new duty should be to //live//." "What about you?" His brown eyes search yours. You shrug lightly. You haven't thought much about yourself since your capture. You've mostly done what you've been told. It hasn't sunk in that you're just a toy, meant only to be played with. That thought unsettles you. "Don't think about me." Lochar sighs. "That's impossible, little $nick, I..." "//Lochar//. I'm not asking anymore." He buries his face in his hands. "I... I understand, my Sovereign." Captain Ysmri gets to $rohis feet. "Apologies," $rohe says softly before taking your arm. Louder, and in a more stern tone, $rohe says, "Let's go. We're going to be late." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.12]]

<<set $friendshipY += 10>><<set $friendshipV -= 10>> "Bodyguards. Really bad bodyguards." "I see that much," he mutters in displeasure. "A Sovereign should have the best warrior as their bodyguard, not... some Captain and a random mercenary from the streets." You almost laugh. "Rhelin would keep the best warrior to himself." "Hmph. He doesn't deserve it. He cut down your family like cattle. If anything he deserves a butcher as a bodyguard." You've heard the stories. They all sound like that. Butchered. Slaughtered. Head cut off. But... <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"Do you know?" You clear your throat. "What really happened to them?"<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"Do you know? What really happened to them?" <</if>> "Yes, I..." He gulps. In a small voice, he says, "I saw it." "Can you tell me?" He turns to you. It's like you said something foreign by how he's looking at you. "I... I've been curious, you know? Did they... go fast? Did they suffer? I know... nothing." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You clear your throat, wanting to just rip it out instead. You're going crazy.<</if>> Lochar rubs his large hands together. "I... I can't, I'm sorry." You expected that. You expected that, yet you feel so let down. "It's fine," you manage. Captain Ysmri sits back down, but pushes over Vaenath's chair childishly as $rohe does so. "I've allowed you some time to reconcile, but $name has some things she needs to do before the day ends." Vaenath pulls $rohis chair up and sits on it, shooting Ysmri a glare. "Yippee," you dryly express. Lochar looks at you. "I can-" "Don't," you swiftly shut him down. "You have a life now. I can't..." "My life is nothing if not serving your bloodline," Lochar retorts, completely serious. <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You frown. "Lochar, if you want to serve me, this isn't... I can't just walk away from this. He- Rhelin- //knows// I'm alive. If I suddenly go missing," you clear your throat, "he'll cut through everyone I've even //interacted// with to get to me. I... I can't do that. They can't suffer more because of me."<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>You frown. "Lochar, if you want to serve me, this isn't... I can't just walk away from this. He- Rhelin- //knows// I'm alive. If I suddenly go missing, he'll cut through everyone I've even //interacted// with to get to me. I... I can't do that. They can't suffer more because of me." <</if>> Lochar's knuckles go white, fists shaking. "And, Lochar... You have //freedom//. Don't let it go to waste because of me." "It wouldn't be a waste." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You scoff then clear your throat. "Lochar, open your eyes and look at me. You would be miserable. That's a waste of freedom." <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>You scoff. "Lochar, open your eyes and look at me. You would be miserable. That's a waste of freedom." <</if>> "I..." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You put a finger to your lips, stopping his thought. <<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>You put a trembling finger to your lips, stopping his thought. <</if>> He looks away from you. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Gods... You're so much like your mother... I'm failing you both..." "You're failing nobody. Rhelin stole that duty from you when he overthrew the realm. Your new duty should be to //live//." "What about you?" His brown eyes search yours. You shrug lightly. You haven't thought much about yourself since your capture. You've mostly done what you've been told. It hasn't sunk in that you're just a toy, meant only to be played with. That thought unsettles you. "Don't think about me." Lochar sighs. "That's impossible, little $nick, I..." "//Lochar//. I'm not asking anymore." He buries his face in his hands. "I... I understand, my Sovereign." Captain Ysmri gets to $rohis feet. "Apologies," $rohe says softly before taking your arm. Louder, and in a more stern tone, $rohe says, "Let's go. We're going to be late." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.12]]

!!!Dusk, Your Room at Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa You plop onto your bed with a long sigh. Your thoughts are of one thing. One //person//. Lochar. Would he listen to you, and live his life? Unlikely. He would probably do what he could to rescue you from... whatever this is. //Oh, Lochar, you fool//. But a part of you welcomed it. The warmth he provided. The nostalgia. Of feeling so very important. "I call the couch!" Vaenath calls, scaring you from your thoughts. You watch as $rohe flops onto the velvet plush. "It's not as comfortable as I thought!" $rohe wails. "Obviously," Ysmri mutters. Louder, $rohe says, "I'll take first watch. Three hours, I'll wake you." "Ugh! I forgot how dreadful working with you is!" "Because I'm actually going to make you work?" "Yes!" You feel yourself smile. You may be some puppet, some toy, but... At least the company is alright. Ysmri stations $rohimself in the middle of the room. You assume because it's the best place since the door and balcony are on opposite sides of the room. "Say, that servant of yours," Vaenath calls, "who was he?" "A close friend," you reply as loud as you can. "Huh." Vaenath sits up to look at you. "Is it true? The markings?" "What about them?" "They //appear//. Like magic. I thought it was all, you know, lies." <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>"They do," you confirm. You clear your throat. "One moment you have none the next you have this burning sensation and, tada, you have something new."<<elseif $breakfastOutburst is 1>>"They do," you confirm. "One moment you have none the next you have this burning sensation and, tada, you have something new."<</if>> "Wow," $rohe quietly marvels. "And- and you know what they mean?" "Kind of. There's this voice that-" Vaenath jumps to $rohis feet. "A voice! You mean, you mean a god!" $roHe laughs, walking in a small circle. You roll your eyes, but you get it. Hearing that someone can listen to //gods// would be... a strange, but exhilarating thing to hear. "Isn't that amazing, Mri?" You glance at the Captain. Ysmri frowns. "I don't..." Vaenath groans. "Right. I forgot you're a faithless pawn! Don't talk." The merc turns back to you. "This voice. What's it like?" You frown. "How am I supposed to explain a god's voice?" <<if $breakfastOutburst is 0>>You clear your throat.<</if>> Vaenath pouts. "I don't know." $roHe perks back up as $rohe says, "I knew it, though. I //knew// the Gods existed." You can't share $rohis boundless enthusiasm. The Gods let your family die, a tyrant rule, the realm fall into chaos, and won't let you control what mystical powers you have. You'd curse at them if you were more brave. "Lay back down," Ysmri orders in a harsh tone, "or you're going to keep watch for the whole night." Vaenath sighs heavily. "Fine, //$roparent//." $roHe falls back onto the couch. "You know, you should kiss my feet. You're only alive because of me." "I'd rather throw myself in front of a gorgon." "A what?" "A gorgon, it's-" Ysmri groans. "Nothing. It's nothing. Go to sleep." You watch the Captain for a moment before closing your eyes. ---- [[Why do you need a few bodyguards, anyways?->Ch1.13]]

!!!Early Morning, Gardens at Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa It feels strange, walking in a garden. Especially one as grand as this, with foriegn flowers, perfect hedges, gravel walkways, gorgeous butterflies... Though, it doesn't compare to the garden your father watched over. Even if it was your mother's duty, she never really cared for gardens or anything of the sort. Your father was the one who planned it all- foreign trees, mystical flowers, near extinct species of plants... You feel yourself smile. This place really doesn't compare. It's almost like a cheap copy. Your heart slowly sinks. A cheap copy... that's all you have left of your home. Albeit... you don't know what Rhelin did with the place. Has he kept up with the garden? Made it his own? Or get rid of it completely? What about the valueables your family harbored? Were those sold? Locked up? Out on display? If only you had taken the time to open your eyes and //look//... Would it be refreshing or heatbreaking? To see your home so drastically different in the hands of the man who destroyed everything you held so dear? "Don't look at the flowers like that," Vaenath pipes up, scaring you so bad you nearly trip over yourself. "You might make them sad, //Godchild//." You glance back at $rohim with an unamused look. "Don't call me that." "But you are, right? The Gods chose you and now you have the markings that profess-" "I was born from a man and a woman. No Gods had any say in that." Vaenath folds $rohis arms. "Mortalchild doesn't sound as rich and exhilarating as Godchild." "I would gladly take Mortalchild." Vaenath turns to Ysmri. "Do you hear this?" $roHe jabs a thumb in your direction. "$She's almost as boring as you." "Boring isn't bad," Ysmri calmly replies. Vaenath whines, letting $rohis arms drop to $rohis sides. "And I thought this would be such a cool job!" "Oh, grow up, Vae." "I am grown. As a matter of fact, I //am// taller than you." "You are not." "How can you be so sure? Look at those iron boots you have on! Barely fair if we're debating height." "I'm not going to take my armor off so we can settle this idiotic debate." Vaenath earnestly turns to you. "What do you think? Who's taller?" You frown, glancing between the two $rogender. "Who's older?" "No clue," the mercenary answers, almost proudly. "My birth wasn't recorded. But does that matter? Just give your opinion." ---- [[Vaenath is taller.->Ch1.14a]] [[Ysmri seems to be the taller one.->Ch1.14b]] [[Don't give your opinion.->Ch1.14c]]

<<set $whoTaller to 1>><<set $friendshipV -= 10>><<set $friendshipY += 10>> "Well, I guess I'll say Ysmri's taller." "Huh!" Vaenath practically screams. You suppose $rohe was //not// expecting that answer. A small, wicked smile spreads on Ysmri's lips, but $rohe stays quiet. "I swear to you, oh child of mortals, that I, Vaenath Euclav, famed mercenary of this realm, is taller than this iron prick." You lift a brow. "This isn't that serious." "Of //course// it is!" Vaenath pauses. "Wait. Are... who's taller between the two of us?" Ysmri, with $rohis gauntlet suddenly off, delicately touches the petals of a red flower. "If you're going to ask whoever you encounter who's taller, at least make it fair. Those boots of yours add at //least// two inches." "Don't tell //$him// that!" Vaenath cries out, turning to the blonde. $roHe freezes when $rohe catches what the Captain is doing. Ysmri rolls $rohis eyes, as if knowing what's coming. A sly grin crosses the mercenary's lips. "So... the Captain of the famed Emperor... likes //flowers//?" "I do. Is there something wrong with that?" "Well, you know-" "Yes, I know that spiders are also fond of flowers. I also know that you despise flowers simply because you failed to recognize a spider sleeping in a bushel you picked, causing you to have a meltdown when it woke and climbed into your hair." Vaenath scrunches $rohis nose. "How do you know that?" "I was //there//." Vaenath glances at you. "Was $rohe?" You give $rohim a confused look. How would you know? Vaenath sighs heavily. "That day was traumatic." "For you. It was quite funny to see." Ysmri laughs softly at the memory as $rohe puts $rohis gauntlet back on. You watch the two continue to interact as you think. They're not quite... bodyguards, are they? More like... two old friends babysitting. That revelation makes your skin crawl. //Babysitting//. Your siblings hated watching over you. They wanted to involve everything with magic, and well, you couldn't, so they weren't able to either. The two $noble's presence is suddenly very, very unwelcome. You turn and continue down the path aimlessly, trying to forget that they're there. You hate that you still hold those types of feelings towards your siblings. You looked up to them, you revered their knowlege, you took their teasings knowing they didn't //really// mean it. They were everything to you. They still are, in a way. You desperately wish you could watch them grow up. Would Uthim accept the crown? Probably. How would he be, as a leader of realms? Perfect, you think. He never let the power go to his head, unlike Evaliina. Would he marry? What type of person would he like? What would //he// look like? And Phanyr, what would he do? Would he leave the Grand Palace and wander the realm, serving the people with his foresight? He would love that. Where would he go first? Gyarji, most likely. See who is innocent and who was rightfully jailed. He would have given the world so much. Evaliina, though... You can't quite imagine her future. Would she ever grow out of her pranks? Would she ever mature? It would be nice, in a way, if she didn't. Always having to watch your back around her, always having a laugh when something inevitably happens. //Gods//. You miss them. And your parents... Just why... why did Rhelin...? "GIVE ME BACK MY DOLLY!" Your eyes snap up, searching the colorful landscape until you spot three bobbing heads and a doll. The sight reminds you when Evaliina took Phanyr's comfort crystal. Or when she nabbed Uthim's carved wooden sword your grandfather gifted him. Or that time she stole your favorite music box... Evaliina was a menace... "I'M TELLING MUM!" Wylna whined, getting progressively farther and farther away from the two boys. The boys turn down the path you're on, running through the garden rows to do so, laughing loudly. "Isn't it too early for this?" You hear Vaenath ask. //It's never too early//. You watch as the two boys near. ---- [[Grab the doll.->Ch1.15a]] [[Let them be.->Ch1.15b]]

<<set $whoTaller to 0>><<set $friendshipV += 10>> "Well, I guess I'll say that you're taller." A wicked smile spreads on Vaenath's lips You suppose $rohe was expecting that answer. A small groan leaves Ysmri's lips, but $rohe stays quiet. "I swear to you, oh child of mortals, that I, Vaenath Euclav, famed mercenary of this realm, is much taller than this here mere Captain." You lift a brow. "This isn't that serious." "Of //course// it is!" Vaenath pauses. "Wait. Are... who's taller between the two of us?" Ysmri, with $rohis gauntlet suddenly off, delicately touches the petals of a red flower. "If you're going to ask whoever you encounter who's taller, at least make it fair. Those boots of yours add at //least// two inches." "Don't tell //$him// that!" Vaenath cries out, turning to the blonde. $roHe freezes when $rohe catches what the Captain is doing. Ysmri rolls $rohis eyes, as if knowing what's coming. A sly grin crosses the mercenary's lips. "So... the Captain of the famed Emperor... likes //flowers//?" "I do. Is there something wrong with that?" "Well, you know-" "Yes, I know that spiders are also fond of flowers. I also know that you despise flowers simply because you failed to recognize a spider sleeping in a bushel you picked, causing you to have a meltdown when it woke and climbed into your hair." Vaenath scrunches $rohis nose. "How do you know that?" "I was //there//." Vaenath glances at you. "Was $rohe?" You give $rohim a confused look. How would you know? Vaenath sighs heavily. "That day was traumatic." "For you. It was quite funny to see." Ysmri laughs softly at the memory as $rohe puts $rohis gauntlet back on. You watch the two continue to interact as you think. They're not quite... bodyguards, are they? More like... two old friends babysitting. That revelation makes your skin crawl. //Babysitting//. Your siblings hated watching over you. They wanted to involve everything with magic, and well, you couldn't, so they weren't able to either. The two $noble's presence is suddenly very, very unwelcome. You turn and continue down the path aimlessly, trying to forget that they're there. You hate that you still hold those types of feelings towards your siblings. You looked up to them, you revered their knowlege, you took their teasings knowing they didn't //really// mean it. They were everything to you. They still are, in a way. You desperately wish you could watch them grow up. Would Uthim accept the crown? Probably. How would he be, as a leader of realms? Perfect, you think. He never let the power go to his head, unlike Evaliina. Would he marry? What type of person would he like? What would //he// look like? And Phanyr, what would he do? Would he leave the Grand Palace and wander the realm, serving the people with his foresight? He would love that. Where would he go first? Gyarji, most likely. See who is innocent and who was rightfully jailed. He would have given the world so much. Evaliina, though... You can't quite imagine her future. Would she ever grow out of her pranks? Would she ever mature? It would be nice, in a way, if she didn't. Always having to watch your back around her, always having a laugh when something inevitably happens. //Gods//. You miss them. And your parents... Just why... why did Rhelin...? "GIVE ME BACK MY DOLLY!" Your eyes snap up, searching the colorful landscape until you spot three bobbing heads and a doll. The sight reminds you when Evaliina took Phanyr's comfort crystal. Or when she nabbed Uthim's carved wooden sword your grandfather gifted him. Or that time she stole your favorite music box... Evaliina was a menace... "I'M TELLING MUM!" Wylna whined, getting progressively farther and farther away from the two boys. The boys turn down the path you're on, running through the garden rows to do so, laughing loudly. "Isn't it too early for this?" You hear Vaenath ask. //It's never too early//. You watch as the two boys near. ---- [[Grab the doll.->Ch1.15a]] [[Let them be.->Ch1.15b]]

<<set $whoTaller to 2>> "Well, I don't really care who's taller or not." "Huh!" Vaenath practically screams. You suppose $rohe was //not// expecting that answer. A small, wicked smile spreads on Ysmri's lips, but $rohe stays quiet. "I swear to you, oh child of mortals, that I, Vaenath Euclav, famed mercenary of this realm, is taller than this iron prick." You lift a brow. "This isn't that serious." "Of //course// it is!" Vaenath pauses. "Wait. Are... who's taller between the two of us?" Ysmri, with $rohis gauntlet suddenly off, delicately touches the petals of a red flower. "If you're going to ask whoever you encounter who's taller, at least make it fair. Those boots of yours add at //least// two inches." "Don't tell //$him// that!" Vaenath cries out, turning to the blonde. $roHe freezes when $rohe catches what the Captain is doing. Ysmri rolls $rohis eyes, as if knowing what's coming. A sly grin crosses the mercenary's lips. "So... the Captain of the famed Emperor... likes //flowers//?" "I do. Is there something wrong with that?" "Well, you know-" "Yes, I know that spiders are also fond of flowers. I also know that you despise flowers simply because you failed to recognize a spider sleeping in a bushel you picked, causing you to have a meltdown when it woke and climbed into your hair." Vaenath scrunches $rohis nose. "How do you know that?" "I was //there//." Vaenath glances at you. "Was $rohe?" You give $rohim a confused look. How would you know? Vaenath sighs heavily. "That day was traumatic." "For you. It was quite funny to see." Ysmri laughs softly at the memory as $rohe puts $rohis gauntlet back on. You watch the two continue to interact as you think. They're not quite... bodyguards, are they? More like... two old friends babysitting. That revelation makes your skin crawl. //Babysitting//. Your siblings hated watching over you. They wanted to involve everything with magic, and well, you couldn't, so they weren't able to either. The two $noble's presence is suddenly very, very unwelcome. You turn and continue down the path aimlessly, trying to forget that they're there. You hate that you still hold those types of feelings towards your siblings. You looked up to them, you revered their knowlege, you took their teasings knowing they didn't //really// mean it. They were everything to you. They still are, in a way. You desperately wish you could watch them grow up. Would Uthim accept the crown? Probably. How would he be, as a leader of realms? Perfect, you think. He never let the power go to his head, unlike Evaliina. Would he marry? What type of person would he like? What would //he// look like? And Phanyr, what would he do? Would he leave the Grand Palace and wander the realm, serving the people with his foresight? He would love that. Where would he go first? Gyarji, most likely. See who is innocent and who was rightfully jailed. He would have given the world so much. Evaliina, though... You can't quite imagine her future. Would she ever grow out of her pranks? Would she ever mature? It would be nice, in a way, if she didn't. Always having to watch your back around her, always having a laugh when something inevitably happens. //Gods//. You miss them. And your parents... Just why... why did Rhelin...? "GIVE ME BACK MY DOLLY!" Your eyes snap up, searching the colorful landscape until you spot three bobbing heads and a doll. The sight reminds you when Evaliina took Phanyr's comfort crystal. Or when she nabbed Uthim's carved wooden sword your grandfather gifted him. Or that time she stole your favorite music box... Evaliina was a menace... "I'M TELLING MUM!" Wylna whined, getting progressively farther and farther away from the two boys. The boys turn down the path you're on, running through the garden rows to do so, laughing loudly. "Isn't it too early for this?" You hear Vaenath ask. //It's never too early//. You watch as the two boys near. ---- [[Grab the doll.->Ch1.15a]] [[Let them be.->Ch1.15b]]

<<set $grabDoll to 0>> You watch the first boy pass, but before the second can do the same, you snatch the doll from his hands. "Hey!" the second boy yells, skidding to a stop. You brush the doll's hair out of her face. It's not as creepy as the one Evaliina adored. She liked strange things, though. "Give that back!" The boy tries to grab it, but you lift it out of his reach. "I don't imagine your mother would think kindly to you both ruining her garden and nearly destroying something so costly." "You going to tattle?" the boy challenged. You raise a brow. "I can break this doll and say it was you. Learn to watch your tonue." Even Evaliina wasn't //this// terrible. "And why would she believe some foreigner?" You motion to the ruined garden- trampled flowers, stray plants, wrecked hedges. "I think she would believe anything with what blind rage she'll be tossed in when she sees //this//." The boy's face goes red, but before he can do anything, you hear a scream accompanied by, "My garden!" The boy's face quickly pales, his eyes bulging. "This is the part where you run," you whisper. Without a moment's notice, he bolts. You look down at the doll. It reminds you of her... Evaliina. Black hair, like mother and you. No distinct eye color, as there's too many. Chaos colors, your father would say. "Dolly!" Wylna cries as she finally approaches you, breathless. You offer the doll with a smile. "What's her name?" Wylna gives you a strange look as she takes it. "You want to know?" "I do." Wylna hums lightly. "Mummy told me not to tell anyone. But I guess you're okay." She pauses. "Apparently she's based off a real princess!" You struggle to keep your smile as your heart drops out of your chest. Oh Gods. "Her name was-" Wylna lowers her voice- "Evaliina." //Oh Gods//. "Mummy says she liked to have fun." "That sounds like quite the princess," Vaenath says, coming between the two of you. "Is she your favorite?" Ysmri grasps your forearm, earning your attention. "Breathe." Only then do you realize how lightheaded you are. You let out a breath, leaning into Ysmri as you do so. When did you stop breathing? You take in a sharp, shaky breath. "Slow down," Ysmri says calmly. "It's alright." As you focus on your breathing, you can't help but be distracted by Vaenath and Wylna. "...Evaliina is definitely my favorite, though. Yeah." "And who's your second favorite?" "Uhh. I don't know. Mummy won't tell me about the others. She says it's not okay." "Not okay?" "Mhm. I dunno why." "Do you want to know more about them?" "Yeah! It's like a real life fairy tale!" //A real life fairy tale//. That's funny. "Well," Vaenath says, "I may not know as much as a friend of mine, but I know a bit." Wylna oohs. "What do you know about the other princes and princess?" "Nothing," Wylna swiftly says. "Just that they exist." "Huh. Well. The eldest is Uthim. Then there's Phanyr. Your Evaliina is the third. And the youngest is $name." You turn away. //How strange, to hear it from someone else's mouth.// "Wait," Wylna wonders, "but I thought //$his// name was $name?" You freeze. If Rhelin found out that someone else knows... No matter if she's a child... "Gods, that's so silly," Vaenath says casually. "No, her name is $nick, don't you remember?" "No." "Well, it is." "Oh. I thought it was $name." "Nope. $nick." "Huh. Okay." "But that's enough for now. I have to, uh, make sure $nick... eats her... early lunch." "Oh. Okay." Wylna walks around Vaenath to face you. "Thank you for saving my dolly. I don't think mum would be happy if she got hurt. Mum said she cost a fortune." You manage to put a weak smile on your face. "Sure," is all you can manage. Wylna stares at you for a long moment before grinning and hurrying off. You let out a long breath. What a start to the day. "Never doing that again," Vaenath says, folding $rohis arms. "I don't know how to talk to children." "You did great," Ysmri says with a small, approving nod. "Says the $rogendersing who can't even talk to his reflection." "You were good," you say with a shaky voice. "When's the last time you ever-" Vaenath stops $rohimself. "Um. Nevermind, you had to deal with royal pains in the behind. I guess I'll trust whatever you say." "Yeah, well," you say, adverting your gaze, "that was a long time ago." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.16]]

<<set $grabDoll to 1>><<set $friendshipY -= 10>> You watch the boys pass, holding your hands close to yourself. However, when the boy holding the doll passes Ysmri, $rohe snatches it. "Hey!" the boy yells, skidding to a stop. You look at the doll. It's not as creepy as the one Evaliina adored. She liked strange things, though. "Give that back!" The boy tries to grab it, but Ysmri's glare makes him stop short. "Get out of my sight," is all the Captain says. "And why should I?" $roHe motions to the ruined garden- trampled flowers, stray plants, wrecked hedges. Before the boy can do anything, you hear a scream accompanied by, "My garden!" The boy's face quickly pales, his eyes bulging. "Get out of here," Ysmri repeats, less harsh this time. Without a moment's notice, he bolts. You look back at the doll. It reminds you of her... Evaliina. Black hair, like mother and you. No distinct eye color, as there's too many. Chaos colors, your father would say. "Dolly!" Wylna cries as she finally approaches Ysmri, breathless. Ysmri offers the doll wordlessly. "What's her name?" Vaenath asks, hands in $rohis pockets. Wylna gives Vaenath a strange look as she takes it. "You want to know?" "If you'd be so kind as to indulge." Wylna hums lightly. "Mummy told me not to tell anyone. But I guess you're okay." She pauses. "Apparently she's based on a real princess!" You struggle to keep your composure as your heart drops out of your chest. Oh Gods. "Her name was-" Wylna lowers her voice- "Evaliina." //Oh Gods//. "Mummy says she liked to have fun." "That sounds like quite the princess," Vaenath says, keeping the conversation going. "Is she your favorite?" Ysmri grasps your forearm, earning your attention. "Breathe." Only then do you realize how lightheaded you are. You let out a breath, leaning into Ysmri as you do so. When did you stop breathing? You take in a sharp, shaky breath. "Slow down," Ysmri says calmly. "It's alright." As you focus on your breathing, you can't help but be distracted by Vaenath and Wylna. "...Evaliina is definitely my favorite, though. Yeah." "And who's your second favorite?" "Uhh. I don't know. Mummy won't tell me about the others. She says it's not okay." "Not okay?" "Mhm. I dunno why." "Do you want to know more about them?" "Yeah! It's like a real life fairy tale!" //A real life fairy tale//. That's funny. "Well," Vaenath says, "I may not know as much as a friend of mine, but I know a bit." Wylna oohs. "What do you know about the other princes and princess?" "Nothing," Wylna swiftly says. "Just that they exist." "Huh. Well. The eldest is Uthim. Then there's Phanyr. Your Evaliina is the third. And the youngest is $name." You turn away. //How strange, to hear it from someone else's mouth.// "Wait," Wylna wonders, "but I thought //$his// name was $name?" You freeze. If Rhelin found out that someone else knows... No matter if she's a child... "Gods, that's so silly," Vaenath says casually. "No, her name is $nick, don't you remember?" "No." "Well, it is." "Oh. I thought it was $name." "Nope. $nick." "Huh. Okay." "But that's enough for now. I have to, uh, make sure $nick... eats her... early lunch." "Oh. Okay." Wylna walks around Vaenath to face Ysmri. "Thank you for saving my dolly. I don't think mum would be happy if she got hurt. Mum said she cost a fortune." "Sure," is all $rohe says. Wylna stares at $rohim for a long moment before grinning and hurrying off. You let out a long breath. What a start to the day. "Never doing that again," Vaenath says, folding $rohis arms. "I don't know how to talk to children." "You did great," Ysmri says with a small, approving nod. "Says the $rogendersing who can't even talk to his reflection." "You were good," you say with a shaky voice. "When's the last time you ever-" Vaenath stops $rohimself. "Um. Nevermind, you had to deal with royal pains in the behind. I guess I'll trust whatever you say." "Yeah, well," you say, adverting your gaze, "that was a long time ago." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.16]]

!!!Late Evening, Your Room at Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa The servants go to and from the bathroom, casting wary glances your way. You guess you would react the same. After all, you're a sudden visitor with a Captain and a mercenary at her sides. Not to mention what they think are tattoos... A laugh escapes your lips. They must think you're some type of underground overlord. //The irony//. "When am //I// going to get a bath?" Vaenath asks, upside down on the couch. "I think I deserve the attention." Ysmri rolls $rohis eyes. "You can be pampered when you're off the job." "But when will that be?" "How about you ask your employer?" Vaenath groans. "No thanks." You purse your lips together. Vaenath has a point. Just how long will Rhelin allow you to breathe? It's already been a week. Will he allow a month? A year? You grip your forearm. Gods, you should have thought about it more. You should come up with a plan to escape. Is that even possible? Rhelin would relish in your death. A thought occurs to you. If you die, then would the Gods...? "My lady, the bath is ready for you." You blink, coming out of your spiraling thoughts. You have to stop doing that. "Oh, alright." You slip out of your bed, but pause. "I'd... like to be alone, please." "Of course." The maid curtsies before slipping out of the room. Ysmri steps towards you, lowering $rohis voice. "Don't do anything stupid. Vaenath has ears like a dog. We'll know if you try anything." "You're the dog, not me," Vaenath yawns, proving Ysmri's point. "I'm not //that// dense," you say in a small voice. Ysmri takes a few steps back. "I would hope so." You step into the tiled room, shutting the door behind yourself. A long breath leaves your lips. What a day. What a week. //What a life//. You wander the bathroom, taking in all the small designs. The gold trimming on everything, the white marble, the tub nearly filled to the brim with hot water. Your feet stop in front of the mirror. Gods, look at you. You? Is that really, truly you? "That's me." Your own voice startles you. You reach out and timidly touch the mirror. You look fuller, compared to how you looked at the hairdresser's. Fed. Lazy. But still tired. What would your parents think, seeing you like this? Seeing you give up so easily? Giving up... That's what you've done. You realize now, the moment you got caught by that trap... You gave up. She warned you. She protected you. What was your mother's sacrifice for? //Look at you//. <<if $gender is "female">>Rhelin was right. About everything. <</if>>You're a toy. Doing just as your told, playing along, not asking any questions. No... Not anymore. You can't do this to them. You can't let your family die in vain. You can't let their memory fade from the people. //You can't let Rhelin win//. You take in a deep breath, your hand curling into a fist. "You are chosen," you whisper, looking yourself in the eyes. "You are destined for something. //For this//. You'll change things. You'll change everything." Rhelin is messing with the wrong Sovereign. You take your robes and throw them off of you, looking at your markings. The markings you used to despise. Not any longer. "I am $name. The last Sovereign. The last chosen by the Gods." You feel your legs tingle and burn. The voice calls, "//Embrace our gift, for you are a unique manifestation of the universe's plan. May your life unfold like the branches of a flourishing tree, and may the shade you cast provide comfort and inspiration to those who walk beside you on the journey.//" Markings in the shape of roots rain down your legs. You look up at your eyes. The Gods will watch you favorably from now on. You're certain of it. ---- [[Continue->Ch1.17]]

<<set $haveMetTopOfTheWorld to true>> !!!Morning, Dining Room at Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa You're not very hungry after what you saw in that dream, but you eat anyways. Fire still licks your back, engulfing you in unwelcome emotions. Though, that's not the only thing you feel. Wylna's coppery eyes are boring into you, even as she takes a bite. Vaenath leans forward. "Hey, girl. Whatcha lookin' at?" Wylna's eyes don't even blink as she responds, "$nick." "Staring is rude, you know?" "Oh." Wylna finally looks away. "Sorry," she mutters. You set your silverware down and turn to her. "Do you need something, Wylna?" "Yeah, I-" she glances at her mother. "Oh, sure," you say quickly, "I can teach you a think or two about where I'm from after breakfast." You feel Ysmri and Vaenath's eyes on you, but you ignore it. Wylna looks utterly confused. You can see her little mind work as she's trying to puzzle out what in the world you mean. Finally, her eyes sparkle when she realizes. "Really? Thank you!" Lord Baerukrat hums lightly. "Where //are// you from?" You give him a small smile. "Originally, I'm from ''Top of the World'', but when I was young I started travelling around." "In this economy?" Lord Baerukrat whistles. "Your parents must have deep pockets." You only smile. "I don't believe I've thanked you for letting me stay here." <<if $grabDoll is 0>>"No need," Lord Baerukrat swiftly replies. "I heard from Wylna you saved her, er, //doll//, from the boys. You can imagine how costly it was. You saved us quite a bit." <<elseif $grabDoll is 1>>"No need," Lord Baerukrat swiftly replies. "I heard from Wylna your guard saved her, er, //doll//, from the boys. You can imagine how costly it was. You saved us quite a bit."<</if>> You incline your head. "It was only right." "Well," Lady Philista interjects, "we're honored to have you here nonetheless." "Yes," her husband agrees, "we are." He glances at his pocketwatch, a scowl overcoming his features. "Though, please excuse me. It looks as though time has slipped past me and I'm needed someplace." He gets to his feet and leaves the room without another word. Lady Philista sighs. "I must see to my boys. I pray they haven't destroyed their room." The lady stands, tells Wylna to finish eating, and leaves. Wylna makes a face at her food. "I can't finish this." Vaenath raises $rohis head. "Hand it over, kid." Wylna gives the mercenary a weird look before handing Vaenath her plate. "I don't understand how you can just... consume," Ysmri says, making a disgusted face. Vaenath rolls $rohis eyes. "You've never gone without. Shut up and eat, $roroyalmock." $roHe glances at you. "No offense." You simply shrug. "Can I know now?" Wylna whispers. "Um..." You glance around. Only your bodyguards, the small girl and you are present. "Sure. What do you want to know?" Wylna giggles gleefully. <<if $gender is "male">>"Who are they again? The princes and the princess?" <<elseif $gender is "female">>"Who are they again? The princes and the princesses?" <</if>> "Uthim, Phanyr, Evaliina and $name." It's weird saying your name like this. "What was Uthim like?" "Oh," you feel yourself smile widely, "Uthim was a proud character, but in a good way. He was obsessed with justice and virtue." "What's virtue?" "Goodness." "Huh." "And Uthim loved his wooden sword, gifted by ou- //his//- grandfather. It was an heirloom, dating back to the first Sovereign." "Wow! That's so cool!" Her smile is wide with awe. "I think so too." "What about the other prince?" "Phanyr?" "Yeah." "Well, Phanyr was a good-hearted kid, like Uthim. Though, unlike Uthim, he liked to use foresight." "What's that?" "Being able to predict the future." "They could //do// that?" You nod. "My mo... //Their// mother could also do it. The others weren't very fond of it." "Why's that?" "Well, foresight takes a lot of... time. You have to meditate and let yourself... let yourself drift to the future you want to see." Wylna oohs. "What about $name?" "Well... I can't say I know much about $him." You pause. "$He never knew how to control her magic." Wylna's smile doesn't waver. "Magic sounds hard!" "Indeed." "They sound so cool!" You nod slowly. "But, Wylna, promise me something." "Yeah?" "Don't tell anyone. Even your parents." Wylna sighs in exasperation. "//Obviously//, $name." You blink as you hear Vaenath choke. Wylna grins mischievously with a shrug. "I have a really good memory." "Gods above, I thought I was being smart!" Vaenath cries out. Wylna turns to $rohim. "I'm a good actress." "How old even are you?" "Five and a half." You glance at the other $rogender. They look just as bewildered. "Gods, you don't fit in this family, huh?" Wylna rolls her eyes. "Duh. I hate calling the lady mummy. But she'll hit me if I don't." Your heart drops. //What//? "Who... are your real parents, Wylna?" Vaenath asks, suddenly serious as $rohe puts $rohis arm on the table. "I only know my mum. Papa's never been around." "Who is she?" "She works at the hairdresser's. Where she cuts people's hair for the first time." "What's her name?" "Uh. Mum?" "Why are you here?" you hear yourself ask. "And not with your mother?" Wylna shrugs. "Mum said she doesn't have enough to feed me. So I have to stay here." You were at the hairdresser's. Maybe you saw her mother. "What does she look like, Wylna?" "Uhh. She has really pretty brown hair. Sometimes it looks red. And it's kinda curvy. She likes to have part of it up when she works so it doesn't get in the way. And she has green eyes, like me!" You bite your lip. That was the woman who cut your hair. The only other person who knows who you are. "She sounds very beautiful," Ysmri says, suddenly on $rohis feet. "You inherited quite a lot from her." Wylna grins proudly. You watch Wylna for a moment, trying to make up your mind. ---- [[Look for Wylna's mother, right now.->Ch1.18a]] [[Stay at the estate, perhaps it's better to wait.->Ch1.18b]]

<<set $waitEstate to 0>> * //Codex Updated!// Before your mind even catches up, you're on your feet, heading for the door. You bound down the many, many steps leading to the estate, only one thing on your mind. Wylna is forced from her mother. Wylna is bullied by her supposed siblings. And Wylna gets hit. "Hey!" Vaenath calls, racing after you. "Do you even know where you're going?" You stop, turning back to $rohim. You jump to see Ysmri right behind you, an angry look stuck on $rohis face. "Uh- no." Ysmri rolls $rohis eyes. "What are you expecting to do?" "Something. //Anything//." Vaenath stops next to both of you. "I love walking in and displaying my beauty, but, uh... that isn't going to work for this." You rub your temple. "I know that." "Uh huh." You turn and continue on your way. You just... you //have// to do something. Even if it's stupid and unlikely to work. You just... can't have someone hurting around you. You know how terrible pain feels. A shiver runs down your spine. Your shoulder blade aches, and it reaches up over your shoulder, searing hot, your skin burning. Boiling. You shake your head. You've healed. It's been seventeen years. You're fine. A sigh leaves your lips as you realize you're overthinking. You really need to tone it down. "So... where exactly are we going?" Vaenath asks, hands behind $rohis head. "Um." You glance around. You are beyond lost. "I was trying to go to the hairdresser's..." "Oh, easy. This way, $royalmock." Vaenath turns for an alleyway. You follow, Ysmri on your heels. "Can you not call me that?" Vaenath groans. "What else am I supposed to call you? You already said no to Godchild, and I refuse to call anyone Mortalchild." "Oh, you know, my name?" "That's boring." "Then what do you call Ysmri?" Vaenath glances over $rohis shoulder at you, then Ysmri. "First name basis?" "I don't care," Ysmri quickly responds with a hot tone. "Okay, okay..." Vaenath shrugs lightly. "Ysmri doesn't count. We've known each other for too long." //How long is too long//? you wonder lightly before saying, "Just call me by my name." "And let everyone know who you are? Do you even realize how many people know the name $name as //$name Sovereign//? "Obviously not," you mutter. Vaenath leads you out of the alleyway and into another as $rohe says, "How about good looking?" "No," Ysmri answers before you have the chance to think of a response. The mercenary tsks. "Okay, //$roparent//." "Just call me $nick," you say with a sigh. "Boo-hoo, I have to call you that sad-" $roHe's down on the ground before you even realize you had stomped on the back of $rohis leg. "My //family// gave me that nickname," you hiss out. "Don't take it lightly." Vaenath rolls over with a groan. "You didn't have to kick me //that// hard..." Ysmri passes by $rohim with a long sigh. "You deserved it. Come on, forget Vaenath." "Huh? No! Don't forget Vaenath!" $roHe hurries to his feet and stumbles after the Captain. //Remind me why Rhelin put these two in charge of me//? you wonder as you follow. Unlike Vaenath, Ysmri takes more populated routes to the salon. Seeing the people of Myopa is strange. They're unlike people you've ever seen before. Even during your time at the Grand Palace. They wear such odd clothes, talk in a peculiar dilalect, eat unfamiliar food. Though you find it bizarre, it's not unwelcome. ---- [[Continue->Ch1.19.1]]

<<set $waitEstate to 1>> * //Codex Updated!// You shake your head lightly. No... you should stay here with Wylna, to make sure she's safe. You can search for her mother later. Ysmri adjusts $rohis gauntlets as $rohe begins to walk away. "Hey, Mri, where do you think you're going?" Vaenath asks, looking at $rohim upside down. Avoiding the question Ysmri commands, "Stay. Don't loose sight of our companion. I'll be back." "Wait, hold on!" Vaenath struggles to $rohis feet, kicking the table and nearly tripping in the process. $roHe runs after Ysmri, demanding answers as the Captain continues to leave. "They're silly," Wylna says, taking back her plate. She looks down at it for a long minute before looking up at you. "Do you want the rest of it?" "Um..." You glance down at your own plate. You still have a sizable amount left and you're no longer hungry. But... "Sure. Hand it over, Wylna." Wylna beams as she earnestly gives the plate to you. You start eating from it first, thinking back to a time where you had to do the same for Evaliina. Because she forced you. And she only did that so she could set your father's under clothes on fire. Is there a single time that girl did something… not destructive? "I wanna see them," Wylna suddenly whispers, leaning towards you. You slowly take a bite, trying to discern what in the ever loving stars she's referring to. As you come up empty, you ask, "//What// do you want to see?" "The Godmarks." Oh, great Gods... "Please?" she begs, holding her hands together. "Oh please oh please oh please?" "Well... I'm not sure..." "I //promise// I won't tell anyone!" Her stare is intent for a moment, then lacks as something seems to cross her mind. "Actually... I might tell mum. My real mum. But other than her I promise!" When was the last time someone //wanted// to see the marks? As symbols of destiny, of divinity, of... //hope//. You let out a breath. "Maybe," you relent, a smile slipping onto your lips. "Yes!" Wylna says, holding her fists up in victory. "Why are we excited?" Vaenath asks, coming back into the room with a smile. "She's going to-!" Wylna stops herself, biting her lip. Vaenath turns to you with an expectant look. You sigh, silverware tapping on your plate. Gods, you're so full. "She wants to see my... //tattoos//." Wylna nods so hard, you think her head might just pop off her neck. Vaenath grins. "I do too! Let's go up to $his room." You rub your forehead, suddenly regretting staying. "I still need to..." "No worries." Vaenath takes your plate and starts to eat. "So, what's your favorite?" "My favorite?" "Yeah. I mean, they must all be cool, but you //have// to have a favorite." You stare at Vaenath long enough for him to mutter dejectedly, "No favorite?" ---- [[You slowly shake your head.->Ch1.19.2]]

"Oh, dearest $noble of mine, we've arrived at your desired location," Vaenath says with open arms. You frown. "You know, I'm not really looking for more attention." "Pity," is all the mercenary says as $rohe lowers $rohis arms. You shake your head lightly before stepping inside. It's not as busy as the day you arrived. You suppose you should be thankful for that. Your eyes scan the large room. //Auburn hair and green eyes. Why is that so difficult to look for//? "Um, hello," a voice says, earning your attention. A small, timid woman smiles awkwardly. "Is there something we can do for you?" You give her your best smile. "I was wondering where I might find an employee of yours? Unfortunately I don't have a name, but she has long auburn hair and green eyes." "Oh, you must be talking about //Selresdre//." You blink. There's no way you're going to say that right. "She's not in the shop today. I can tell her you stopped by and-" "Can you tell me where I can find her?" The words just tumble from your mouth. "I'm sorry, that's against our policy..." You rub your arm, eyes slowly wandering the salon. Myopa is a large city, so it's impossible to just... run into her. What are you supposed to do now? "Thank you," you say slowly, "but... can you repeat her name for me?" "Oh, of course. Selresdre." You bite your lip for a moment before trying, "Selre-Selser-" "Selresdre. Sel-res-dre." "Ohh, I see. Selersdre." The woman laughs, but covers it with a cough. "Selresdre." "Selresdre." The woman nods. //Selresdre//. "Thank you, again." "Of course." The woman inclines her head. You incline your head back before leaving the shop. You search for a place to sit before doing anything more. "Now that you've found us a pretty place to sit," Vaenath says, "can we be included in what the heavenly realms is happening?" You ignore $rohim as you ask, "Selresdre, right?" "Right..." You close your eyes. You empty your mind, taking a deep breath. //Selresdre, mother of Wylna. Locks of auburn, eyes of emerald. Where might I find you, oh lost soul of realms tarnished//? A shabby walkway. Shaows distorted. Diluted screams. Hurt, afraid. Hopeful, yet despondant. Lonely, with no one to care for. A loved husband, gone. A dear child, a better place. Gods protect, but only for so long. Washed out, her blood. Worked and beaten, here one day gone the next. Her mind a flurry, suddenly void. She's... Your eyes open. Did you...? No, you don't have time to think about that. Stumbling to your feet, you realize... Why is it so quiet? Where is...? "Find me quickly," a familiar voice echoes. "My Sovereign, I wish... I wish to see my Wylna once more." You blink. Sounds crash into your skull- the talking, the movement, the trees, the birds, the scuttling. You wince and hold your head. "You alright?" Vaenath asks, holding onto your arm. "You looked like... you saw a ghost or something." You rub your eyes. Think! Shabby walkway... Distorted shadows... Lonely... Beaten... "This way," you confidently decide, sprinting for an alleyway. Your legs aren't fast enough, aren't used to running enough, as you weave through the alleyways. Your breath hitches when the neat stone paths turn disheveled, the usually fun and artistic shadows now warped and demonic. //Run//, you tell yourself. //Run//. Your lungs are on fire and your legs are wobbly by the time you see a figure hunched over something- //someone//. Your heart stops. Were you too slow? Your blood runs cold as you think of Wylna. //Gods, please//... As you race towards the figure, they turn to you. But before they can do anything, you're already barrelling into them with your shoulder. The man crashes into the wall, yelling out in pain or shock, you can't tell. He's holding a bloodied plank. You hear something snap into place behind you, but you don't look back. Your eyes are on the man who is now on his feet, a furious look on his face. "You have no business here!" he yells. "Take your dogs and go back to your emperor!" Only then do you realize he's talking to Ysmri, who's on the other side of the body. You take a sharp breath before kneeling beside the victim. Auburn hair. "Selresdre?" No response. You gently check her pulse, a wave of relief hitting you when you feel her heartbeat. Thank the Gods... The man screams in pain, forcing your eyes upward. You see a bolt sticking out of his arm. Vaenath steps closer, another bolt loaded into $rohis crossbow. "You heard the Captain. //Step back//." He grips his plank. "You have no right! That's //my// wife!" "According to Myopan law," Ysmri says calmly, "once you harm your spouse to the degree of falling unconscious, your rights are relinquished. In other words, I could care less about who you are, what you're doing, and what you're saying. To me, an enforcer of law, you're just a rat who needs to be caged." "Where is this coolness coming from?" Vaenath asks, sounding hurt. "Back in the day you were just some loser." Ysmri ignores $rohim as $rohe says, "Stand down and I might spare your life." The man raises his plank. A small hum leaves Ysmri's lips. You swear you could see a smile. "Vae, take Selresdre and our companion towards the estate. I'll catch up with you." "What? Why do I have-" "Gods above, Vaenath," $rohe says in a dark tone, "did I stutter?" Vaenath lowers $rohis crossbow slightly. $roHe stares at Ysmri for a few heartbeats. $roHe then turns to the man and loosens the bolt, pelting his left thigh and earning a pained groan. "Have a miserable time, Captain," Vaenath mutters. The mercenary skillfully puts $rohis crossbow on $rohis back before kneeling on the other side of Selresdre. "She still alive?" You nod weakly. Vaenath takes one of Selresdre's arms. "Best if we both carry her." "Right," you breathe out, taking Selresdre's other arm. The two of you lift the wounded mother from the ground, careful to watch for wounds as you both set her arms around your shoulders. "I don't know where to go," you quietly admit. Vaenath sniffs. "That's fine. I grew up around here, so it's not a problem. This way, straight ahead." You both continue on quietly for a few feet until Vaenath asks, "How are we going to get her into the estate without anyone noticing?" "I don't know," you answer, trying to watch your steps. "Can't you, like, ask the Gods to make some grand distraction for us?" "Why don't you ask? I'm sure they'll love to hear from you." "Oh, they do," Vaenath says proudly. "After all, who wouldn't love hearing my voice?" "Ysmri, by the way $rohe glares at you whenever you open your mouth." "$roHe doesn't count." "Uh huh." You glance up at the mercenary. You stare at $rohim for a moment before deciding to ask, "How long have you known Ysmri?" "Oh, a long time," $rohe answers, eyes scanning the alleyways you pass. "$roHe's like an annoying thorn in your side that you can't quite shake off." "You sound like you hate him quite a bit." "Hate-? Oh, no, $royalmock, it isn't anything like that. We have our differences, which are plentiful. But I don't hate the iron prick. It's more like a... //professional rivalry//." "A professional rivalry?" "Yeah. It's uh..." "Stupid," Ysmri says, making you jump. You glance back, seeing $rohis armor caked with blood. //Just what did $rohe...// "Set her down. I'll check her out." Ysmri starts to take $rohis gauntlets off, eyes expectant. "You //actually// learned something useful when you became a soldier?" Vaenath asks as $rohe lowers Selresdre to the ground with your aid. "Funny." Ysmri kneels beside the mother, gently touching her face. "Go buy some alchohol. I'll tend to her here." "With what money?" "Yours. Unless you changed your ways and left it?" "You're paying me back." "Obviously." Ysmri leans in closer to inspect the deep gash on Selresdre's cheek, running down to her chin. Vaenath glances at you. "Wanna come with, $royalmock?" ---- [[Get supplies with Vaenath.->Ch1.20.1a]] [[Stay with Ysmri to care for Selresdre.->Ch1.20.1b]]

"So, they're roots?" Wylna asks, tracing a small tinger in the air, mimicking how your markings curve. "They are," you confirm. It's strange. You never thought you'd be doing this again- showing what new markings you have. In the past, it used to be exciting- you show your family, they're proud, and in turn you feel blessed. But now, it feels strangely... empty. You miss them. "I like them." Wylna gets to her feet and sits beside you on your bed. "I wish I could have them." You're not sure what to think about that, let alone respond. Thankfully, Vaenath opens $rohis mouth. "How about we worry about keeping this a secret and not get tattoos similar to the person who's supposed to be dead, huh?" "Dead?" Wylna glances at you. "So... you're a ghost?" Vaenath snorts out a laugh. "I'm very much alive," you respond, shooting Vaenath a glare that $rohe simply grins at. "Huh." Wylna starts to swing her legs back and forth, eyes wandering the room. "I wish mum could be here. She would like knowing about you." "What do you mean?" you venture, your curiosity getting the better of you. "She likes the //Sover-dins//," she says, unknowingly mispronouncing the word. "She's sad that you can't learn about them." "You can't?" "It's a no-no." //Right. Wylna's still five.// "And mum doesn't wanna get into trouble. She said that it's to protect me." "Mummy dearest sounds like a dream," Vaenath says, leaning against a wall. Wylna makes a face. "No. She's a person." Vaenath and you chuckle. "I'm glad you're doing your job," Ysmri's voice says, making all of us jump. The Captain is sitting on the couch, eyeing all of you. "Gods, when did you get here?" Vaenath asks, looking uncomfortable. //So much for dog ears//. "Long enough," Ysmri responds. "I couldn't pinpoint where Selresdre is, so I came back." "Mummy's not at the shop?" Wylna asks, hands fidgeting. "No. She didn't go in today." "But..." Wylna looks to her lap, a scared look overcoming her. "She never skips work..." You bite the inside of your cheek, anxiety flaring up inside you. Perhaps... perhaps //you// can do something? "What was her name?" you hear yourself ask. "Selresdre," Vaenath says, rubbing $rohis chin. "Is there any way we can locate her?" "No," Ysmri replies. "Mypoa is too large a city, and I don't have the authorization to command a search." //Selresdre//. You hope you're saying that right. You close your eyes and empty your mind, taking a deep breath. //Selresdre, mother of Wylna. Locks of auburn, eyes of emerald. Where might I find you, oh lost soul of realms tarnished//? A shabby walkway. Shaows distorted. Diluted screams. Hurt, afraid. Hopeful, yet despondant. Lonely, with no one to care for. A loved husband, gone. A dear child, a better place. Gods protect, but only for so long. Washed out, her blood. Worked and beaten, here one day gone the next. Her mind a flurry, suddenly void. She's... Your eyes open. Did you...? No, you don't have time to think about that. Stumbling to your feet, you realize... Why is it so quiet? Where is...? "Find me quickly," a familiar voice echoes. "My Sovereign, I wish... I wish to see my Wylna once more." You blink. Sounds crash into your skull- the talking, the movement, the birds. You wince and hold your head. "You alright?" Vaenath asks, suddenly at your side and holding onto your arm. "You looked like... you saw a ghost or something." You rub your eyes. Think! Shabby walkway... Distorted shadows... Lonely... Beaten... "I know where," you confidently decide, sprinting for the door. Your legs aren't fast enough, aren't used to running enough, as you weave through the house, then the streets, then alleyways. Your breath hitches when the neat stone paths turn disheveled, the usually fun and artistic shadows now warped and demonic. //Run//, you tell yourself. //Run//. Your lungs are on fire and your legs are wobbly by the time you see a figure hunched over something- //someone//. Your heart stops. Were you too slow? Your blood runs cold as you think of Wylna. //Gods, please//... As you race towards the figure, they turn to you. But before they can do anything, you're already barrelling into them with your shoulder. The man crashes into the wall, yelling out in pain or shock, you can't tell. He's holding a bloodied plank. You hear something snap into place behind you, but you don't look back. Your eyes are on the man who is now on his feet, a furious look on his bloodied face. "You have no business here!" he yells. "Take your dogs and go back to your emperor!" Only then do you realize he's talking to Ysmri, who's on the other side of the body. You take a sharp breath before kneeling beside the victim. Auburn hair. "Selresdre?" No response. You gently check her pulse, a wave of relief hitting you when you feel her heartbeat, even though it's faint. Thank the Gods... The man screams in pain, forcing your eyes upward. You see a bolt sticking out of his arm. Vaenath steps closer, another bolt loaded into $rohis crossbow. "You heard the Captain. //Step back//." He grips his plank. "You have no right! That's //my// wife!" "According to Myopan law," Ysmri says calmly, "once you harm your spouse to the degree of falling unconscious, your rights are relinquished. In other words, I could care less about who you are, what you're doing, and what you're saying. To me, an enforcer of law, you're just a rat who needs to be caged." "Where is this coolness coming from?" Vaenath asks, sounding hurt. "Back in the day you were just some loser." Ysmri ignores $rohim as $rohe says, "Stand down and I might spare your life." The man raises his plank. A small hum leaves Ysmri's lips. You swear you could see a smile. "Vae, take Selresdre and our companion towards the estate. I'll catch up with you." "What? Why do I have-" "Gods above, Vaenath," $rohe says in a dark tone, "did I stutter?" Vaenath lowers $rohis crossbow slightly. $roHe stares at Ysmri for a few heartbeats. $roHe then turns to the man and loosens the bolt, pelting his left thigh and earning a pained groan. "Have a miserable time, Captain," Vaenath mutters. The mercenary skillfully puts $rohis crossbow on $rohis back before kneeling on the other side of Selresdre. "She still alive?" You nod weakly. Vaenath takes one of Selresdre's arms. "Best if we both carry her." "Right," you breathe out, taking Selresdre's other arm. The two of you lift the wounded mother from the ground, careful to watch for wounds as you both set her arms around your shoulders. "I don't know where to go," you quietly admit. Vaenath sniffs. "That's fine. I grew up around here, so it's not a problem. This way, straight ahead." You both continue on quietly for a few feet until Vaenath asks, "How are we going to get her into the estate without anyone noticing?" "I don't know," you answer, trying to watch your steps. "Can't you, like, ask the Gods to make some grand distraction for us?" "Why don't you ask? I'm sure they'll love to hear from you." "Oh, they do," Vaenath says proudly. "After all, who wouldn't love hearing my voice?" "Ysmri, by the way $rohe glares at you whenever you open your mouth." "$roHe doesn't count." "Uh huh." You glance up at the mercenary. You stare at $rohim for a moment before deciding to ask, "How long have you known Ysmri?" "Oh, a long time," $rohe answers, eyes scanning the alleyways you pass. "$roHe's like an annoying thorn in your side that you can't quite shake off." "You sound like you hate $rohim quite a bit." "Hate-? Oh, no, $royalmock, it isn't anything like that. We have our differences, which are plentiful. But I don't hate the iron prick. It's more like a... //professional rivalry//." "A professional rivalry?" "Yeah. It's uh..." "Stupid," Ysmri says, making you jump. You glance back, seeing $rohis armor caked with blood. //Just what did $rohe...// "Set her down. I'll check her out." Ysmri starts to take $rohis gauntlets off, eyes expectant. "You //actually// learned something useful when you became a soldier?" Vaenath asks as $rohe lowers Selresdre to the ground with your aid. "Funny." Ysmri kneels beside the mother, gently touching her face. "Go buy some alchohol. I'll tend to her here." "With what money?" "Yours. Unless you changed your ways and left it?" "You're paying me back." "Obviously." Ysmri leans in closer to inspect the deep gash on Selresdre's cheek, running down to her chin. Vaenath glances at you. "Wanna come with, princess?" ---- [[Get supplies with Vaenath->Ch1.20.2a]] [[Stay with Ysmri to care for Selresdre->Ch1.20.2b]]

<<set $friendshipV += 10>> "Don't call me $royalmock." You pause. "But yeah, I'll go with you." Vaenath grins. "Good stuff." $roHe spins on his heel and starts down an alleyway, hands behind $rohis head. You hurry to follow, falling beside $rohim. "So... How'd you know?" "Huh?" You glance over at Vaenath, who's eyes are already on you. Vaenath grins. "You know, Ysmri and I just kind of tailed after you like a pair of idiots. You could at least fill me in on how you located the woman." "Oh." You look away from $rohim, to the paths ahead of you. The shadows seem to tell their own story- a horrific, painful story. "I don't really know. I think I used magic?" "You're not confident?" "Absolutely not. I wasn't lying when I told Wylna //$name never learned to control magic//. In fact, it's why Rhelin is so keen on letting me do whatever he wants." Vaenath hums lightly. "You know, for being the murderer of your family, I thought you'd call him, like, stupid fat troll or something. Not his name. And not so casually." Your nose subconsciously scrunches in disgust. After a moment, your expression cools as you think. Perhaps you //should// call him names. He doesn't deserve to be called by his name. But what's a suitable name for him? Bringer of Death? Emperor of Choas? Ruiner of Aspirations? No... those are far too epic. Perhaps Vaenath can come up with one for you. Like stupid fat troll. "Over here," Vaenath says suddenly, grabbing your clothes and pulling you towards a house. "This way? But-" "Don't take another step!" a voice yells from inside. "Nats, you go back from whence you came!" //Nats//? "Oh, come on, Duclar!" Vaenath calls, letting go of you as $rohe continues towards the house, unaffected by the man’s tone. "You owe me!" "Owe you? After last time?" "No, the time before, don't you remember?" Vaenath leans on the door frame, making you realize there isn't even a door. $roHe grins at the man who appears beside $rohim, arms crossed. He towers over Vaenath- the mercenary doesn't even come up to his shoulder. "So... what do you want?" he asks slowly, eyes boring into the mercenary. "Supplies." Vaenath fiddles with the hilt of one of $rohis swords, but $rohis eyes don't waver. "Alcohol, bandages, stuff for stitching. You know, the usual." "That's too much." "Then let the alcohol be free and I'll pay for the rest." Duclar hums, scratching his ragged beard as he simply stares down at the mercenary. Vaenath takes the hand that was playing with $rohis sword and grabs a money pouch, bouncing it in $rohis palm expectantly. "Fine. But only for-" "Take the whole thing, you big lug." Vaenath laughs and tosses it at him, which he catches with ease. "If I need anything else, I'll come to you." "Fair enough." He turns to the house and calls, "You heard the $rogendersing! Grab the goods quickly now!" "Thanks, old man." $roHe hits the man's stomach. "Hmm." His eyes wander to you, standing there awkwardly. "Who's your friend?" "Oh!" Vaenath grins. "This is-" "Don't you dare," you hiss at $rohim. You //really// don't need anyone else knowing who you really are. Vaenath pouts. "I was going to say my good-looking companion. Where are //your// thoughts, $nick?" You're tempted to smack $rohim, but Duclar does it for you, nearly knocking $rohim to the ground. "Behave yourself," is all he says. Vaenath chuckles, trying to shove Duclar, but he doesn't even flinch. "You're just afraid I'll make you look bad." A few young children run to Vaenath, offering $rohim various things. "Hey, there's some new faces," Vaenath says with a smile. $roHe takes the supplies, promptly handing them to you, but keeping the bottle of alcohol. "Thanks, you guys." $roHe looks up at Duclar. "And thank you." Duclar hums. "Get out of here before someone sees you." Vaenath chuckles. "Sure, sure..." $roHe turns to you, clapping a hand on your back. "You heard the old fart! Let's go!" $roHe wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you away. "What was..." you try, but Vaenath cuts you off with, "Ah, don't worry about it." "How can I not?" "Let's put it this way." $roHe starts to talk with $rohis other hand, waving around in large circles. "I'm tired of seeing you at face value. So, I thought, what better than show you something relating to me at face value and refuse to elaborate? It's been beautifully effective in the past." You roll your eyes. "Vaenath, I have no clue who you even are. You didn't need to add all this..." "But I //did//. See, I notice things. That's what I'm paid to do. But you're caught up in, whatever it is, to notice anything about me. So I had to show you." Strange feelings grip at your throat and stomach. This mercenary is a lot more competent than you originally thought. Is that part of $rohis disguise? Gods, you are more blind than a blind man. "Behold Ysmri," Vaenath suddenly calls, letting go of you, "your favored mercenary, to the rescue!" $roHe stops before the Captain, gently setting the bottle of alcohol on the pavement. "Damage report?" Ysmri rolls $rohis eyes, demeanor turning serious. "The worst of it is the gash on her cheek. I found no broken bones, but she does have scratches and bruises on her arms and torso." Ysmri takes the alcohol and uncaps it. "Vae, hold her." The Captain's gray eyes turn to you. "Perhaps it's best you look the other way." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.21.1]]

<<set $friendshipY += 10>> "Don't call me $royalmock." You pause. "I'll stay." Vaenath shrugs. "Suit yourself." $roHe spins on $rohis heel and dashes down an alleyway. You rub your face before kneeling beside Selresdre. Just what would have happened if you chose to stay at the estate? Would she still breathe? And... you used magic to find her. Without something going wrong. Just how did you manage that? No matter. What's important right now is that Selresdre is taken care of. You take one of her hands. Splinters and bruises range from her fingertips to her shoulder. Some fragments of wood are under her fingernails. Perhaps she tried to yank the plank from the man. "Your thoughts?" You jump at $rohis voice, nearly dropping Selresdre's arm. A small, incredulous laugh leaves your lips. "Um... She definitely tried to fight back. Look at these bruises." You lift Selresdre's arm higher, letting Ysmri see the extent of it. Ysmri's gray eyes harden as $rohe takes in the sight. $roHe lets out a shaky breath. "Gods..." $roHe looks down at Selresdre's face, where $rohe holds a cloth to the open wound. The blue color darkens slowly. You set Selresdre's hand over her stomach, eyes still on Ysmri. Ysmri closes $rohis eyes for a brief moment before looking up at you. "Can you take over? I should check for more injuries." "Sure," you respond softly, taking the bloodied rag. Ysmri goes down the woman's body, inspecting the damage with furrowed brows. $roHe says nothing as $rohe checks for broken bones. When $rohe finishes $rohis inspection, $rohe takes another cloth to replace the one you're holding. "She'll be fine," $rohe says, reassuring you. "We... //intercepted//... before any major damage was done. As for her face..." Ysmri closes $rohis eyes, steeling $rohimself, before locking them with yours. "It will scar." You offer Ysmri a reassuring smile. "Selresdre is strong." "Yes, but..." Ysmri looked down at the mother. "Scars have a weight that can't be shouldered off." //Unique choice of words//, you think, left hand instinctively rubbing your right shoulder. "That may be so," you say, eyes wandering, "but it'll be a reminder not of the pain, but of the resilience, the will to live. She told me so." "Pardon?" "Hmm?" "She told you so? She's... unconscious." "Well, I..." You pause. Had she really told you, or was that your imagination? "I just, it's... She... Um... It's... more of a feeling, really..." Ysmri hums lightly. "I suppose... your feelings should be trusted." You glance at $rohim, feeling confused. As if sensing your emotions, $rohe explains, "I mean, look at us right now. We wouldn't have been here had you not been kind to the little lady, which led us to gather she's not truly who we thought she was." Ysmri's lips curve into a small smile. "Then you storm off to find her real mother without a second thought. And when we thought our little trip was a waste... You go and do... //something//... to lead us straight to her. Saving her life." Is the Captain of your enemy...? "I never... really believed in the Gods," $rohe continues. "I mean, why would I? They forsook us, letting their chosen die. But now..." $roHe bites his lip, eyes falling. //But now what//? You want to ask, but you stay still. Ysmri slowly shakes $rohis head. "Perhaps... you are what..." "Behold, your favored mercenary, to the rescue!" Vaenath calls through gasps. $roHe stops before Ysmri, dropping a few things before gently setting the bottle of alcohol on the pavement. "Damage report?" Ysmri clears $rohis throat, demeanor suddenly serious and stiff. "The worst of it is the gash on her cheek. I found no broken bones, but she does have scratches and bruises on her arms and torso." Ysmri takes the alcohol and uncaps it. "Vae, hold her." The Captain's gray eyes turn to you. "Perhaps it's best you look the other way." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.21.1]]

<<set $friendshipV += 10>> "Don't call me $royalmock." You pause. "But yeah, I'll go with you." Vaenath grins. "Good stuff." $roHe spins on $rohis heel and starts down an alleyway, hands behind $rohis head. You hurry to follow, falling beside $rohim. "So... How'd you know?" "Huh?" You glance over at Vaenath, whose eyes are already on you. Vaenath grins. "You know, Ysmri and I just kind of tailed after you like a pair of idiots. You could at least fill me in on how you located the woman." "Oh." You look away from $rohim, to the paths ahead of you. The shadows seem to tell their own story- a horrific, painful story. "I don't really know. I think I used magic?" "You're not confident?" "Absolutely not. I wasn't lying when I told Wylna //$name never learned to control magic//. In fact, it's why Rhelin is so keen on letting me do whatever he wants." Vaenath hums lightly. "You know, for being the murderer of your family, I thought you'd call him, like, stupid fat troll or something. Not his name. And not so casually." Your nose subsonsciously scrunches in disgust. After a moment, your expression cools as you think. Perhaps you //should// call him names. He doesn't deserve to be called by his name. But what's a suitable name for him? Bringer of Death? Emperor of Choas? Ruiner of Aspirations? No... those are far too epic. Perhaps Vaenath can come up with one for you. Like stupid fat troll. "Over here," Vaenath says suddenly, grabbing your clothes and pulling you towards a house. "This way? But-" "Don't take another step!" a voice yells from inside. "Nats, you go back from whence you came!" //Nats//? "Oh, come on, Duclar!" Vaenath calls, letting go of you as $rohe continues towards the house, unaffected by the man’s tone. "You owe me!" "Owe you? After last time?" "No, the time before, don't you remember?" Vaenath leans on the door frame. You realize there isn't even a door. $roHe grins at the man who appears beside $rohim, arms crossed. He towers over Vaenath- $rohe doesn't even come up to the man’s shoulder. "So... what do you want?" he asks slowly, eyes boring into the mercenary. "Supplies." Vaenath fiddles with the hilt of one of $rohis swords, but $rohis eyes don't waver. "Alcohol, bandages, stuff for stitching. You know, the usual." "That's too much." "Then let the alcohol be free and I'll pay for the rest." Duclar hums, scratching his ragged beard as he simply stares down at him. Vaenath takes the hand that was playing with $rohis sword and grabs a money pouch, bouncing it in $rohis palm expectantly. "Fine. But only for-" "Take the whole thing, you big lug." Vaenath laughs and tosses it at him, which he catches with ease. "If I need anything else, I'll come to you." "Fair enough." He turns to the house and calls, "You heard the $rogendersing! Grab the goods quickly now!" "Thanks, old man." $roHe hits the man's stomach. "Hmm." His eyes wander to you, standing there awkwardly. "Who's your friend?" "Oh!" Vaenath grins. "This is-" "Don't you dare," you hiss at $rohim. You don't need anyone else knowing who you really are. Vaenath pouts. "I was going to say my good-looking companion. Where are //your// thoughts, $nick?" You're tempted to smack $rohim, but Duclar does it for you, nearly knocking $rohim to the ground. "Behave yourself," is all he says. Vaenath chuckles, trying to shove Duclar, but he doesn't even flinch. "You're just afraid I'll make you look bad." A few young children run to Vaenath, offering him various things. "Hey, there's some new faces," Vaenath says with a smile. $roHe takes the supplies, promptly handing them to you, but keeping the bottle of alcohol. "Thanks, you guys." $roHe looks up at Duclar. "And thank you." Duclar hums. "Get out of here before someone sees you." Vaenath chuckles. "Sure, sure..." $roHe turns to you, clapping a hand on your back. "You heard the old fart! Let's go!" $roHe wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you away. "What was..." you try, but Vaenath cuts you off with, "Ah, don't worry about it." "How can I not?" "Let's put it this way." $roHe starts to talk with $rohis other hand, waving around in large circles. "I'm tired of seeing you at face value. So, I thought, what better than show you something relating to me at face value and refuse to elaborate? It's been beautifully effective in the past." You roll your eyes. "Vaenath, I have no clue who you even are. You didn't need to add all this..." "But I //did//. See, I notice things. That's what I'm paid to do. But you're caught up in, whatever it is, to notice anything about me. So I had to show you." Strange feelings grip at your throat and stomach. This mercenary is a lot more competent than you originally thought. Is that part of $rohis disguise? Gods, you are more blind than a blind man. "Behold Ysmri," Vaenath suddenly calls, letting go of you, "your favored mercenary, to the rescue!" $roHe stops before the Captain, gently setting the bottle of alcohol on the pavement. "Damage report?" Ysmri rolls $rohis eyes, demeanor turning serious. "The worst of it is the gash on her cheek. I found no broken bones, but she does have scratches and bruises on her arms and torso." Ysmri takes the alcohol and uncaps it. "Vae, hold her." The Captain's gray eyes turn to you. "Perhaps it's best you look the other way." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.21.2]]

<<set $friendshipY += 10>> "Don't call me $royalmock." You pause. "I'll stay." Vaenath shrugs. "Suit yourself." $roHe spins on $rohis heel and dashes down an alleyway. You rub your face before kneeling beside Selresdre. //Gods//. Just what would have happened if you chose to leave at the estate earlier? Could you have avoided this? And... you used magic to find her. Without something going wrong. Just how did you manage that? No matter. What's important right now is that Selresdre is taken care of. You take one of her hands. Splinters and bruises range from her fingertips to her shoulder. Some fragments of wood are under her fingernails. Perhaps she tried to yank the plank from the man. A few of her fingers are broken. "Your thoughts?" You jump at $rohis voice, nearly dropping Selresdre's arm. A small, incredulous laugh leaves your lips. "Um... She definitely tried to fight back. Look at these bruises." You lift Selresdre's arm higher, letting Ysmri see the extent of it. Ysmri's gray eyes harden as $rohe takes in the sight. $roHe lets out a shaky breath. "Gods..." $roHe looks down at Selresdre's face, where $rohe holds a cloth to the open wound. The blue color darkens slowly. You set Selresdre's hand over her stomach, eyes still on Ysmri. Ysmri closes $rohis eyes for a brief moment before looking up at you. "Can you take over? I should check for more injuries." "Sure," you respond softly, taking the bloodied rag. Ysmri goes down the woman's body, inspecting the damage with furrowed brows. $roHe says nothing as he checks for broken bones. When $rohe finishes $rohis inspection, $rohe takes another cloth to replace the one you're holding. "She'll heal," $rohe says, eyes lingering on Selresdre. "She has a few broken ribs, but luckily her collarbone is still intact, along with her hips and legs. As for her face..." Ysmri closes $rohis eyes, steeling $rohimself, before locking them with yours. "It will scar." You offer Ysmri a reassuring smile. "Selresdre is strong." "Yes, but..." Ysmri looked down at the mother. "Scars have a weight that can't be shouldered off." //Unique choice of words//, you think, left hand instinctively rubbing your right shoulder. "That may be so," you say, eyes wandering, "but it'll be a reminder not of the pain, but of the resilience, the will to live. She told me so." "Pardon?" "Hmm?" "She told you so? She's... unconscious." "Well, I..." You pause. Had she really told you, or was that your imagination? "I just, it's... She... Um... It's... more of a feeling, really..." Ysmri hums lightly. $roHe moves a hair out of the mother's face and lets out a long sigh. "What a nightmare..." "Yeah," you wryly agree, holding your knees closer to you. You purse your lips together for a moment before blurting, "I could have prevented this." "No, you couldn't..." "I could have gone with you!" you yell, thrusting your arms into the air. "I would have felt something was off, and we could..." Your voice is but a whisper. "We could have been here sooner, could have saved her from this..." Ysmri frowns. "I know you used some sorcery to lead us here, but..." "I could have done it sooner," you repeat, voice weak. "I could have..." "Behold, your favored mercenary, to the rescue!" Vaenath calls through gasps. $roHe stops before Ysmri, dropping a few things before gently setting the bottle of alcohol on the pavement. "Damage report?" Ysmri clears $rohis throat, demeanor suddenly serious and stiff. "The gash on her cheek will have to be stitched. She has a few broken ribs and fingers, scratches and bruises on her arms, torso and neck." Ysmri takes the alcohol and uncaps it. "Vae, hold her." The Captain's gray eyes turn to you. "Perhaps it's best you look the other way." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.21.2]]

By the time Ysmri is finished stitching and bandaging, Selresdre is beginning to stir. "Your Royal Heartthrob," Vaenath says to you, "I think it's your turn. We're used to stabbing hearts, not calming them." Ysmri gets to $rohis feet, frowning at $rohis bloodied hands. $roHe doesn't bother to argue with what Vaenath said, proving $rohis point. You're unsure, you've never done anything like this, but you assume the other two are just as clueless. You kneel beside the mother and prompt, "Selresdre?" The woman's eyes flutter open. She groans quietly, a shaky hand reaching up to her face. You catch it, careful to avoid any bruises, and offer her a smile. "It'd be best if you let the stitches be." Her green eyes finally meet yours. Her brows knit together, mouth slightly agape as she tries to recognize you. When she does, her eyes widen. "My Sovereign," she mutters, voice weak. You nod quaintly. "How did... I know I..." Selresdre's eyes wander, finding Ysmri and Vaenath standing nearby. "What...?" "It would be best if we could take you away from here. Can you stand?" "I... I think so?" You help Selresdre to her feet, letting her lean on you. Ysmri approaches, eyes on you. "Vaenath will accompany you back to the estate. I have to... clean what mess I left." You nod, wondering what the mess is. Vaenath stretches and points down an alley. "That'll be the fastest route." "No," Ysmri quickly shoots $rohim down. "Take safer roads. Populated ones. We don't know how many people are aware of the Sovereign's existence." Vaenath groans. "I hate the main roads!" "I'm not cleaning more messes." "Fine, //$roparent//. Gods." Vaenath motions to another alley. "This way, $royalmock..." As you begin on your way back to the estate, you decide you should ask Selresdre, "How are you feeling?" "Protected," is her immediate answer, startling you. You never would have imagined she would say something remotely close to that. A small laugh leaves her lips. "And hurt. But I'll heal. I must." You all know why. "But, My Sovereign," Selresdre says, looking into your eyes, "how did you find me?" "We were looking for you." "But... Whatever for? I'm a poor woman, who cuts hair all day." Vaenath turns around, to face the two of you as $rohe walks backwards, hands behind $rohis head. "Our Sovereign dearest has a sweet spot for darling young children, it seems." Selresdre's face falls. "Did Wylna ask you to find me?" "Gods, no, that would be far easier." Vaenath motions to you. "The kid only mentioned you after we were deep diving in $His Holiness's family tree. Godchild sprung from $his seat at the mention of you and dashed out the door. Truly heroic. And stupid. We could have gotten more information from the kid, but Sovereign dearest couldn't handle anymore, I suppose." You frown, mostly at all the nicknames. "I just... wasn't thinking clearly after she said she was being..." You stop yourself, glancing at Selresdre. "Being what?" Selresdre quickly prompts. "It seems the lady of the house isn't as fond as the child as we thought," Vaenath says with a shrug, taking Selresdre's attention from you. "She said she gets hit." Selresdre stumbles, nearly taking you both to the ground. You struggle to keep the both of you upright. "Gods, no... I thought..." "You couldn't have known," you say in a soothing voice. "In any case, we're going to the estate right now, so you can see her." Selresdre's eyes drift to yours. "If I see that godsforsaken woman, I'll..." Vaenath hollers out a laugh, hitting $rohis knee in the process. You're simply too shocked to speak. "Keep her away from me," Selresdre decides, fury burning in her eyes. "What I'd do to her is not something Wylna should see." "Understood!" Vaenath laughs out, saluting mockingly. "Gods, if only //my// mother felt that way about me. That kid's the luckiest in Myopa." Vaenath turns on $rohis heel as we come out from the alleys and onto a main road. You catch a smile on Selresdre's face before her expression turns serious. "Mummy's coming, darling," you hear her say faintly. ---- [[Continue->Ch1.22.1]]

By the time Ysmri is finished stitching and bandaging, the sun is at its highest in the sky. "$name," Vaenath says to you, "it's going to be okay, $royalmock." Ysmri gets to $rohis feet, frowning at $rohis bloodied hands. You're unsure, you've never been the cause of something like this, even if you weren't the one beating a woman with a plank. Your heart stutters when you look at Selresdre. You can't help but feel responsible. Ysmri approaches, eyes on you. "Vaenath will accompany you back to the estate. I have to... clean what mess I left." You nod, wondering what the mess is. Vaenath stretches and points down an alley. "That'll be the fastest route." "No," Ysmri quickly shoots $rohim down. "Take safer roads. Populated ones. We don't know how many people are aware of the Sovereign's existence." Vaenath groans. "I hate the main roads!" "I'm not cleaning more messes." "Fine, //$roparent//. Gods." Vaenath motions to another alley. "This way, $royalmock..." Vaenath helps you pick up Selresdre, the both of you carrying her along like earlier. "We'll just say she, uh... got a bit too drunk?" "How about we avoid conversation?" "Obviously you don't know my reputation, Your Royal Heartthrob." You simply roll your eyes. "In any case," Vaenath says, looking at the alleys, "I, uh, heard you back there. All upset and everything." "Don't say anything," you say quickly, and a bit aggressively. "I don't want to talk about it." Vaenath turns to face you, a sad expression crossing $rohis features. "Sovereign dearest, no one could have seen this happening." "But I could have!" you shout, your frustration bubbling over. "If only I learned to control my magic, I could have seen her being hurt, and then...!" "Stay with me, $name." Vaenath looks into your eyes, which is somehow comforting. "Deep delving into what could have been won't help us now. Let's focus on getting Selresdre to her daughter right now, alright?" You frown, mostly at how sane $rohe sounds compared to you. "I just..." "I know." Vaenath gives you a small smile. "Trust me, I know." ---- [[Continue->Ch1.22.2]]

!!!Midday, Outside Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa "Through the kitchens," Vaenath is saying, leading a way around the hill the estate is built upon. "I'll distract the servants with my devilishly good looks while you sneak her farther into the house." You bite your lip. You all have to hurry. Someone in the family is bound to see you, but you can't help but pray you'll remain undetected. And better yet... "I don't know the layout of the house," you say dejectedly. "I'm not about to let you two loose in that house without me," Vaenath says a bit harshly. "Ysmi's wrath is one I'd like to avoid." "Sovereign," Selresdre says through gasps. You immidiently halt, looking over the woman in worry. She offers you a weak smile, making you worry even more. "I just need to breathe for a moment," she explains. "New plan," Vaenath says, grabbing Selresdre from you. $roHe effortlessly throws the woman over $rohis shoulder. "You distract while I get mother dearest into your room." "Huh?" is all you have to offer. Vaenath motions towards the front of the house. A few women are standing at the entrance of the house, being welcomed by the lady of the house. "Gods, what do you think I can...?" Before you can ask, Vaenath gives you a smirk. "Come on, use that Sovereign charm I know you have and distract them enough to let us slip through the house. And hurry, they're going inside now." You turn back, dismayed to see the mercenary is right. When you try to ask what $rohe's expecting you to do, you let out a long sigh seeing $rohe's nowhere in sight. Gods have mercy. You retrace your steps so you can climb the many, many steps to the front door. You curse at whoever decided to put so many forsaken stairs. By what you can only determine the grace of the Gods, you ascend to the door before everyone has filtered inside. Their conversation is so loud you assume the other end of the estate can hear it. "Oh, who's this?" a lady asks, noticing you. Lady Philista smiles when you recognizes you. "This is our guest! His Imperial Majesty asked us to house $him while he finds $him a permanent home." This is the first you're hearing of this. Perhaps you should ask Ysmri more of your whole //ordeal// later. That is, if Ysmri would talk. Perhaps Vaenath would? Did $rohe even know, though? You push your thoughts away as you smile back. "Yes, it's been too long since I've had a place to call home," you say politely. "You know the Emperor?" another woman asks. //Gods, I wish I didn't//. "Faintly, yes." "Oh, well, where are you from?" //Vaenath is going to reimburse me well for this. I've always hated talking to nobility//. "Well, I was born and raised in Top of the World until... unfortunte... events occured, forcing me to travel around." "Alone?" //I'm going to strangle someone. Can't you infer on your own, you old hag//? "Yes, alone. As I said... unfortunate events." "Oh, what a shame..." Further in the house, you can faintly see Vaenath's red hair. //Finally.// "Shall we take this-" the lady of the house tries before you interject with, "Lady Philista's estate is well put together, is it not?" The ladies quickly agree, mentioning their own favorite parts of the house. Lady Philista glistens at the praise. "Oh, well, thank you! It is a headache at times, but it is a pride." "You take good care of it all," you say, watching Vaenath disappear. "Your garden, actually, reminds me of the one at the Grand Palace." You instantly regret your words as the world seems to go quiet, the women's attentions purely on you. "Really?" Lady Philista asks, holding her hands in front of herself. "You've been?" //Gods! I'm digging myself to the underworld!// "Of course," a voice behind you makes you jump. "Although, the $noble and I have some things to attend to in private. Please, excuse us." You glance behind yourself, finding Ysmri. $roHe doesn't look amused in the slightest. The ladies give you room to pass by, the Captain hot on your heels. When the two of you are out of earshot, Ysmri hisses, "What in the Gods' names are you doing without Vaenath?" "$roHe told me to distract them!" you defend, taken aback by $rohis harsh tone. "We needed Selresdre inside without anyone seeing." Ysmri huffs. Changing the subject, $rohe asks, "Does Wylna know?" You shake your head. "I haven't seen her yet." "Perhaps we can look for her. I'm sure she'll be overjoyed to see her mother." You look up at the Captain, feeling a bit shocked. You didn't expect $rohim to be... //passionate// on the matter. Though, thinking back, you recall Rhelin saying something about the Captain's family if $rohe succeeded in his duty. Family must be important to $rohim. And having the time to actually look at $rohim, you see the Captain no longer wearing $rohis armor. Instead, $rohe wears a tunic, black pants, and boots. $roHis sword is hanging on $rohis waist, swaying slightly with every step. "It's being cleaned," Ysmri says, as if knowing what you're thinking. "I can't exactly walk around broad daylight with bloody armor." "Oh," you manage. You bite your lip, wondering... "Did you kill him?" "Of course." $roHis tone is so casual it catches you off-guard. Remorse is nowhere to be found on $rohis features. "I recognized him. He wanders cities, impregnating young women, marrying them, and then beating them to death before they have the chance to give birth. He always collects the city temple's grievance offerings, because he's just a greedy rat. It seems Selresdre is fortunate that he took far longer than usual to return to Myopa." You blink, disgusted and sickened by the sudden information. Then relief washes over you. Thank the Gods Selresdre and Wylna are safe. Especially now, with him dead. "Wylna may be upset that she can never know her father," Ysmri continues, "but it's better this way. That man would just use her to earn more money, no matter the means." //Gods//. Is this truly the state of the world? What other horrors are out there? Was it always like this? Did your parents turn a blind eye? No, they offered their services to everyone. You remember such. Then is this the aftermath of their death? The legacy of Rhelin's reign? Could you fix it? You? The $man who's been hiding for seventeen long years? Where would you even start? You have no clue of the state of things. Are all the realms this way? Or only yours? Gods, you need to learn //so much//. "Wylna," Ysmri calls, pulling you from your thoughts. You see the child sitting on a small bench, her Evaliina doll on her lap. A large smile spreads across her face when she sees you. "You're back! Where did you go?" Wylna scrambles to her feet and hurries to you. "We've brought something that needs your attention." You give Ysmri an unamused look before turning to Wylna with a smile. "It's a good something, I promise." "Okay," Wylna agrees easily. She takes your hand, looking up at you expectantly. Strange feelings bubble in your stomach. Your thoughts drift to your siblings, but before they can spiral, Ysmri declares, "Let's go." "Right," you breathe out, following the Captain to your room. When you reach the door, it opens, revealing Vaenath. $roHe shrinks away when $rohe's face to face with Ysmri. "We'll talk later," is all Ysmri says, waiting for you to enter. You lead Wylna inside first, eyes scanning the room for her mother. Selresdre is sitting on your couch, grinning as she watches the little girl. "Wyllie-nilly," she coos, arms stetched out. Wylna gasps. "Mummy!" ---- [[Continue->TY]]

Thank you for reading the first chapter of Chained Sovereign! This is my first interactive novel, so please bear with me as I figure out how this all goes! ---- It's pretty crazy that I've gotten this far, haha. Usually when I take up something new I drop it after a few weeks, but this is a nice change! Writing has been a passion of mine for years, and interactive stories have always been a marvel to me, so when I found out I could make my own, I started //as soon// as I could. I picked up Twine, what I'm using to create //Chained Sovereign//, without having a clue to even link passages. With the much needed help from YouTube videos, headaches, and looking things up, look at how far this project has come! I want to say, if you have a passion and a will, you can do all sorts of crazy things. I took inspiration from ''qeresi'''s //A Tale of Crowns//, so thank you qeresi! If you haven't read //A Tale of Crowns//, I highly recommend it, it's a masterpiece. I also want to thank ''Vahnya'' for this template! I'll continue to work on //Chained Sovereign// diligently, I'm excited to see where this all goes! When I write, I don't really have an endgoal, so this is all a surprise to me as it is to you. Though, I do have outlines for chapter 2-10 so I'm not completely lost, haha. I'm pumped to keep working, thank you for all the love! I'm not sure how active I'll be in the comments, I'm a bit overwhelmed by the attention, but please know each and every comment it is appreciated! If you find any mistakes, please list them! I'd like to have this story as polished as it can be for you all. I appreciate the time you've taken to be a part of this project -Syvonne ---- [[Restart the Story->story start]]

!!!Midday, Outside Lord Baerukrat's Estate, Southeast Myopa "Through the kitchens," Vaenath is saying, leading a way around the hill the estate is built upon. "I'll distract the servants with my devilishly good looks while you sneak her farther into the house." You bite your lip. You all have to hurry. Someone in the family is bound to see you, but you can't help but pray you'll remain undetected. And better yet... "I don't know the layout of the house," you say dejectedly. "I'm not about to let you two loose in that house without me," Vaenath says a bit harshly. "Ysmi's wrath is one I'd like to avoid." "You know, it would be nice if we could avoid-" "New plan," Vaenath says, grabbing Selresdre from you. $roHe effortlessly throws the woman over $rohis shoulder. "You distract while I get mother dearest into your room." "Huh?" is all you have to offer. Vaenath motions towards the front of the house. A few women are standing at the entrance of the estate, being welcomed by the lady of the house. "Gods, what do you think I can...?" Before you can ask, Vaenath gives you a smirk. "Come on, use that Sovereign charm I know you have and distract them enough to let us slip through the house. And hurry, they're going inside now." You turn back, dismayed to see the mercenary is right. When you try to ask what $rohe's expecting you to do, you let out a long sigh seeing $rohe's nowhere in sight. Gods have mercy. You retrace your steps so you can climb the many, many steps to the front door. You curse at whoever decided to put so many forsaken stairs. By what you can only determine the grace of the Gods, you ascend to the door before everyone has filtered inside. Their conversation is so loud you assume the other end of the estate can hear it. "Oh, who's this?" a lady asks, noticing you. Lady Philista smiles when you recognizes you. "This is our guest! His Imperial Majesty asked us to house her while he finds her a permanent home." This is the first you're hearing of this. Perhaps you should ask Ysmri more of your whole //ordeal// later. That is, if Ysmri would talk. Perhaps Vaenath would? Did $rohe even know, though? You push your thoughts away as you smile back. "Yes, it's been too long since I've had a place to call home," you say politely. "You know the Emperor?" another woman asks. //Gods, I wish I didn't//. "Faintly, yes." "Oh, well, where are you from?" //Vaenath is going to reimburse me well for this. I've always hated talking to nobility//. "Well, I was born and raised in Top of the World until... unfortunte... events occured, forcing me to travel around." "Alone?" //I'm going to strangle someone. Can't you infer on your own, you old hag//? "Yes, alone. As I said... unfortunate events." "Oh, what a shame..." Further in the house, you can faintly see Vaenath's red hair. //Finally.// "Shall we take this-" the lady of the house tries before you interject with, "Lady Philista's estate is well put together, is it not?" The ladies quickly agree, mentioning their own favorite parts of the house. Lady Philista glistens at the praise. "Oh, well, thank you! It is a headache at times, but a pride." "You take good care of it all," you say, watching Vaenath disappear. "Your garden, actually, reminds me of the one at the Grand Palace." You instantly regret your words as the world seems to go quiet, the women's attentions purely on you. "Really?" Lady Philista asks, holding her hands in front of herself. "You've been?" //Gods! I'm digging myself to the underworld!// "Of course," a voice behind you makes you jump. "Although, the $royal and I have some things to attend to in private. Please, excuse us." You glance behind yourself, finding Ysmri. $roHe doesn't look amused in the slightest. The ladies give you room to pass by, the Captain hot on your heels. When the two of you are out of earshot, Ysmri hisses, "What in the Gods' names are you doing without Vaenath?" "$roHe told me to distract them!" you defend, taken aback by $rohis harsh tone. Even though the two of you had been together for a week, $rohe had never sounded angry or frustrated or... emotional. Why is $rohe so upset now? "We needed Selresdre inside without anyone seeing." Ysmri huffs. Changing the subject, $rohe asks, "Does Wylna know?" You shake your head. "I haven't seen her yet." "Then let's hurry to your room. I'm curious to see how overjoyed she'll be to see her mother." You look up at the Captain, feeling a bit shocked. You didn't expect $rohim to be... //passionate// on the matter. Though, thinking back, you recall Rhelin saying something about the Captain's family if $rohe succeeded in $rohis duty. Family must be important to $rohim. And having the time to actually look at $rohim, you see the Captain no longer wears $rohis armor. Instead, $rohe wears a tunic, black pants, and boots. $roHis sword is hanging on $rohis waist, swaying slightly with every step. "It's being cleaned," Ysmri says, as if knowing what you're thinking. "I can't exactly walk around broad daylight with bloody armor." "Oh," you manage. You bite your lip, wondering... "Did you kill him?" "Of course." $roHis tone is so casual it catches you off-guard. Remorse is nowhere to be found on $rohis features. "I recognized him. He wanders cities, impregnating young women, marrying them, and then beating them to death before they have the chance to give birth. He always collects the city temple's grievance offerings, because he's just a greedy rat. It seems Selresdre is fortunate that he took far longer than usual to return to Myopa." You blink, disgusted and sickened by the sudden information. Then relief washes over you. Thank the Gods Selresdre and Wylna are safe. Especially now, with him dead. "Wylna may be upset that she can never know her father," Ysmri continues, "but it's better this way. That man would just use her to earn more money, no matter the means." //Gods//. Is this truly the state of the world? What other horrors are out there? Was it always like this? Did your parents turn a blind eye? No, they offered their services to everyone. You remember such. Then is this the aftermath of their death? The legacy of Rhelin's reign? Could you fix it? You? The $man who's been hiding for seventeen long years? Where would you even start? You have no clue of the state of things. Are all the realms this way? Or only yours? Gods, you need to learn //so much//. "We're here," Ysmri says, pulling you from your thoughts. You both enter the room. Vaenath is sitting on the couch, cross legged with an expectant look. But when $rohe sees Ysmri, $rohe scrambles to $rohis feet to flee. Ysmri is too quick, kicking Vaenath's back before resting $rohis foot on the merceary's back. "I thought I told you-" "Wyllie-nilly," a quiet voice says, forcing your attention to your bed. Selresdre offers Wylna a weak smile. Inbetween sobs, Wylna cries, "Mummy!" ---- [[Continue->TY]]