Fantasy Primum Movens: Open! (Looking for Rebels!)

[Pretzel Heart]

Preparations for the 100th Annual Cendrillion Ball are Underway!

​

Opening ceremonies will start shortly. Take care not to be murdered by a roaming band of rebel supporters on your way to Saint Lyon.


We are sure you definitely don't want to miss this year's event.

 

[Pretzel Heart]

100th Annual Cendrillion Ball ~ Day 1: Prelude

Awakening
​

Status Report


Date: Sunday, April 1st


Time: Early morning (6:00 AM)


Temperature: Warm with a cool breeze

The crisp spring air created a tension that hung to the morning as an apple hangs before Tantalus - in full view, but forever out of reach. Air so clear and fresh that perhaps it could strike a dagger through even such a long stuttered kingdom.


As if in staunch denial of nature's call to action, an aging man stood leaning heavily against a stone balustrade trying to take what he could from the morning. The sweet charm of the birds flitting through the air. The flower buds opening, setting about their daily work of perfuming the city. But after so many years of watching these same mornings, one after another, the man felt nothing.


Nothing if not tired - it had been another tortured night. Thoughts had run heavy on his mind for decades, to the point where even in sleep they could not be abandoned. Sometimes he wondered how he had even the strength to lift himself from his bed every morning, even if only to be lead somewhere quiet like this to rest. An old man should be allowed his rest...


His life had been a long and eventful one, but now his skin felt frailer than the clothing that adorned it, and his features, though once described as carved from ice, now sagged as the cracks that had spread through that ice had widened into chasms of skin, aging his appearance even beyond his lofty years.


In the end he was just an old, worn out man like countless other men who may be viewing this same morning. His frame remained stooped against the skyline of the waking city of Saint Lyon.


In all the world, only one person had a right to this very view which his unmoved eyes took for granted. That person was Regis Mutto, the rule of Euthalia and thus the most powerful man in the entire world.


Or at least, he should be.


These days he was no longer sure.


The Regis Mutto of today was a very different man from the conqueror who had calmly laid the foolish Ceasar Revolution to rest. He hadn't been the one to execute the leaders, but he had been sitting on the sidelines, sheltered underneath the canopy as he had subconsciously tried to shelter his daughter's face as she had sat, tiny beside him, forced to be there as a sign of absolute power and control that would continue throughout the bloodline...


And today, that little girl who had sat with hands before her eyes, would once again face her people, as the official hostess of this year's Cendrillion Ball.


The position her mother had last held ten years before. Now, at last, it was the girl's chance to awaken, called forth like the countless city folk pulling themselves from the comfort of sleep.


"Your Majesty, may I entreat upon your confidence?"


With a sigh the king turned his head, locating a finely dressed aria hovering in the partially opened door.


"Enter, Balthasar. How are the preparations going?"


"Everything is underway. I have received confirmation that several of the representatives have already arrived and are getting situated in their rooms in the Château."


"Excellent. Don't forget to deliver them all the invitations to the Opening Banquet."


"Certainly, your Majesty."


He noticed that the aria looked particularly skittish, his unwillingness to let his whisker-framed eyes meet his king's seemed to be not from reverence alone.


"The Princess isn't giving you any trouble, is she?"


"No...no, not at all." The King looked as if still haunted by whatever images traced his sleep. Balthasar had been there to wake him up every morning since his coronation, and so he knew that expression well. This was no time to mention that the princess had, once again, not attended her dance lesson.


His quick servants' mind was already thinking of any number of excuses he could play upon to get her out of conducting the traditional opening dance displayed by the Ball's official hostess...


"However, there are some interesting rumors as to whom we might expect at this year's celebration."


For a moment a shadow passed over the King's face.


"Nothing from Lepumir, We would hope---"


"No...No, nothing about that, so far."


It wasn't the first time such unspoken fears had found their way to a verbal life in Waltz Castle. Despite the fact that preparations for this year's Ball, being the tradition's centennial as well as the Princess's first, were bigger and more fantastical than ever, the unease of Lepumir had spread like a poison throughout all of Roserasia, and it was only a matter of time before that poison pierced straight through to the continent's heart.


"Such a shame. He would have been just returning home..."


Looking out once more towards the blossoming Saint Lyon, the King couldn't help but bring to mind the quaint smile of the prince of Lepumir as he had accepted the grand prize award for last year's Cendrillion Ball's crowning event.


The Rebellion that had slaughtered his parents, just a mere few months afterwards.


Trying in his skillful way to steer the conversation to lighter thoughts, Balthasar began to prattle more about the talk of the town.


"Have you heard the rumors about the Knight of the Lady?"


"Perhaps in passing, yes. It does sound familiar. Why?"


Balthasar thought that the King sounded much too eager to have an excuse not to speak of the Rebellion, but he also couldn't blame him. Even as an aria himself, he couldn't bear to imagine the violence, despite the fact that it was exactly such imaginings that devilishly snuck into his mind, late at night. He still couldn't fathom how, after endless years of peace between races, someone would want to stir up trouble now, of all times?


Under his own beloved king.


"Well, my daughter tells me there are whispers of someone who fits his appearance nearing Saint Lyon."


"Perhaps he will show up for the Ball. Hardly seems the type of thing a knight would be interested in, though."


"This year, certainly, everyone will want to come and pay homage to our lovely hostess?"


The King nodded, already lost in thought much deeper than the run of the conversation.


"Yes...Our daughter...This year will certainly be a stand out event. Who knows what types of people will show up?"


Noticing that the King was somewhere else, somewhere far away from the balcony on which they now stood, Balthazar just nodded respectfully.


"If one of Our people do see someone of note in town, make sure to pass them on an invitation as well. It will be a good show, perhaps, to have more than just the typical representatives at the feast."


"Certainly, your Majesty."


With that, seeing as the King had fallen silent and returned to his perch overlooking the city, Balthazar took his orders with him and politely bowed his way out of the room.


His Majesty was most certainly correct...at this year's Cendrillion Ball, anything could happen. Ever since the Rebellion, Roserasia had been thrown into a sickly stasis. Perhaps this event would be just loud enough to knock the continent back onto a future path...


And which path it would take, as many were aware, would be resting almost entirely on a single soul... ... ...

✥ ✥ ✥

​

"Princess, Coach Rien will be waiting for you again."


"I know, Kip! I know."


The pair were sitting on the small dock overlooking Viennese Waltz Lake. As usual, the still water reflected the unstartled azure of the sky whose only interruptions were its grandiose clouds and the occasional passing bird. There was no one here this morning, perhaps because it was so early and many would be preparing for the day's festivities. The Princess herself would typically never be here, let alone even awake at such a time, but the thought of remaining in her room, only for some servant to stumble upon her, was even worse.


Of course, Kip had found her, anyway. That was his special ability, after all. Even more dear was his ability to not question the girl as she had led him silently from the castle grounds, all the way out here in the forest deep.


"You're going to have to dance at the banquet, so don't you think one last chance at practice---"


The Princess, who had been focused on trying to lean off of the dock to try and muddy up the perfect stillness of those pure white clouds suddenly lifted herself, facing her tutor wildly.


"I said I know, Kip!"


The tone of her voice startled the aria. The usually bright eyes of the Euthalian Princess were storming with images he had never before seen.


"You really are nervous, aren't you."


He said this in not a teasing voice, but one of understanding. For years the Princess had grown up without a care of the world, and suddenly the entire future of Roserasia had come clamoring down upon her head.


No one had said anything about this, of course, but still. They both knew.


"I'm not ready for this. I don't even like dancing! If only there was some way I could...I don't know, just let someone else take the reins on this one."


She sat back in a huff, her large crinoline skirts bubbling around her.


Kip was silent for a long moment. The picture of the Princess's panicked eyes had not left his mind.


"What if...What if there was a way. A way you could get someone else to take your place?"


His usually nagging voice was calm, quiet.


"Do you know what a doppelgänger is, Princess?"


The girl stared back at him with wide eyes.


"Come again?"


"There's many legends about doppelgängers, though no one knows if any of them are true. It's a person who shares your face, your soul, someone who can take on your destiny."


Though the Princess was completely enraptured by her tutor's words, she abruptly brushed them off.


"Oh, fluff! You said it yourself, there's no such thing. So how does that help?"


"I think...I may be able to take you to meet yours. There was a book I stumbled upon, recently, and...Well, would you be willing to trade places with a complete stranger, for a whole month?"


The Princess's body became strangely erect. She knew that Kip had an unusual amount of magic for a mere aria, and yet...could such a thing be possible? Even if it was, would such a decision be wise? It would be like letting someone get inside her head, manipulating her body, for an entire month!


But if such a girl were exactly like herself, if they shared a soul, then surely there would be no problem, would there? After all, she was her own favorite person.


Still, this was her first chance to see the nobility from the other countries in years. She had often wondered about them...dreamt when she could meet them again... ... ...


Meet him...


Then she remembered the news of the Rebellion in Lepumir. The way her father's face fell every time he asked to see her dancing progress. The silent impatience behind her dance instructor's eyes...


"Yes, Kip. Yes, please let me do it!"


With a deep sigh the tutor nodded.


"Okay, then...Let's return to the palace for now. We'll have some preparations to make."

Now it's Your Turn

For your opening post, you may talk about your character's arrival in Saint Lyon. If you are a representative, you will have a room prepared for you in the Princess' Château. There you may find an invitation stamped with the royal Euthalian seal from the King to attend the "Opening Banquet" this evening at 7:00 PM:
​

From His Royal Majesty, King Regis Mutto of the Euthalia Throne,


Welcome to this year's Cendrillion Ball. As is customary, We will be hosting an Opening Banquet for all of the representatives of Roserasia who have come to stay with Us for this event. The first course will start at 7:00 PM, just after sunset.


As for entertainment, Our lovely daughter will be showcasing her dancing skills along with her dance instructor. We have high hopes for this year's crowning event: The Cendrillion Ball proper.


In any case, We are delighted to welcome so many fine youths of Roserasia in this troubled time, so over these next weeks, please enjoy all Saint Lyon has to offer to your hearts' contents.


Signed,

King Regis Mutto

​

If you are not a representative, you may write about running into a member of Euthalia's Royal Guard or a royal servant who will also give you an invitation, if you'd like. That is where the "plot" will begin, so you might need it in order not to get stranded, though we will do our best to accompany everyone's expectations.


Happy RPing!

@DemonKitten @Lady Ravenshade @ParadoxalPaladin @Unwavering Knight



​

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Glory.


The foe is ascertained, steel-gaze rigidly affixed on the wooden skin, frame silent and still. An iron claw opened, sharp fingers flexing to emit a series of clicks, before the entire gargantuan body is forced into rapid motion, charging as thunderous steps rocked the street and elicited gasps from the puzzled passersby.


A little girl looking up at the willow began to doubt her request.


Steel talons ripped into the bark with dull crunch, the tree's crown shaking wildly as the behemoth tore his way upwards, armored hands forcing hold when none could be found, a shower of leaves and wooden splinters sent flying as the knight vanished in the labyrinth of twigs, a series of breaking bark betraying his unwavering advance. With another final crunch the figure emerged near the top, one leg balancing the form on a thin branch that one would have thought to be unable to hold the steel-clad giant's weight.


A mewling intoned, pathetic and frightened, followed by a futile hiss.


The silent gaze lowered itself, coming to rest upon the small feline creature. Slowly, deliberately, the knight balanced his way across the branch, coming to a halt just before the small beast, which now seemed to contemplate if risking the fall might be worthier. Slowly the armored frame crouched down, claws ripping into the lumber, poised like a monster ready to pounce, neck stretching as the helmeted visage inspected the furry creature.


The cat hissed, recoiling even further, inching ever closer to the edge.


A claw was ripped from the wood and sped forth, iron hold clasping firmly around the feline beast's neck, ignoring any and all attempts of futile resistance. Without emitting another sound, the knight released his grip from the branch, momentarily sailing through the air in a bizarre act before impacting on the earth with the free hand ripping into the earth for halt as the armored frame rested on the knees, the onlookers staring in confused silence.


Standing up, Helbrecht quietly strode over to the girl, handing over the kitten, alive and intact. The child could only clutch her pet tightly to her chest as she stared up at the armored giant with fright clear on her face, bits and pieces of bark and leaves still clinging to the plates.


"It is done, milady." A harsh voice emanated from the helmet, gaining a metallic grating through the faceplate "Farewell." Striking a perfect ninety degree turn, the knight walked off with an even gait.


Fortunate, that...


Having barely entered Saint Lyon under the watchful gaze of suspicious guards, with vocal remindings that any attempts at disturbing the capital's good folk would be met with swift justice, already Helbrecht encountered a needy soul, staring up at one of the trees specifcially grown for their aesthetics to enrich the street. The owners of these feline creatures that appeared to spontaneousely lose their capability for calculating proper heights appeared to be the sort that derived pleasure from pain...


A good angle, to be sure.


The knight himself, with no other cries for help immediately audible, finally allowed his helmeted gaze to wander, across the crowding market-stands growing with ever more appraisals of the passersby that equally arrived in anticipation of the nearing Cendrillon Ball. It told finally Euthalia's Princess would make her royal word known, with her father certain to make a choice as per her designs upon the congregation of nobles that was gathering.


So many of comely flesh and blood, gathering to dance, to bicker, to prosper...


Helbrecht's gaze drew upwards sharply, fixating on the towering walls of the castle that easily dominated the timid housings gathering in its shadow. Waltz Castle. The proverbial aim of many of his strivings. And perhaps, finally, a fruit for his search. A boon for the Quest.


The knight's gait gained a strange sway, the sort a relieved youngster might betray after having walked for quite long, with only now the end of the road in sight. It had been a long journey, after all...

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Nelly Lin

​

The wind was angry today, it smacked everyone about, it smacks the river to froth, the willow branches to whips and the people of Lepumir into a whirl of coattails and frilly frocks but not Nelly.


Today the young Witch would be departing on a journey and she was terribly exhilarated if a little afraid, and only a little as when one possesses magical abilities fear is an emotion not frequently felt. She was buttoned, buckled and braided and wavering by the Whispering brook; however it wasn't so whispery today, the brook foamed and gurgled as it got slapped about by the gusts of wind, but not Nelly. Her chest rose and fell with each ghost of a breath as the girl seemed to drift in the breeze, with strands of dusky locks caressing rosy cheeks and a silken cloak the color of moonlight that shimmered as it greedily snatched up the meager rays of sunlight filtering through the leaves.


Nelly was angry this morn, and when Witches are angry the wind can sense that too and so it howls and howls, ceaselessly and never tiring. But not to worry, her temper has fizzled out. She cannot stay like that for long for fear of her scowl becoming permanent, Jaspar hadn't showed and he was meant to come along and so Nelly was angry. She always knew he was a coward. She said "You can't stay here forever mister."


"No, I can't because no one lives forever," and they had fought that night and it put the Witch in a dreadful mood, she cried that night too but Witches aren't supposed to admit those sort of things. The new road was a helpful thing, and it's good it goes straight, all you have to do is follow it and so she was grateful for the path whence she had commenced to travelling after a hasty farewell and a lovely breakfast of toast and two kinds of jam, for special occasions. The Whispering brook had provided Nelly a time to gobble down the fresh blackberries that her mother had packed and to marvel at the various flora that thrived by the bank. With a crown of marsh marigolds on her head and fingers stained purple she continued on her journey to Saint Lyon, getting ever closer to the brilliance of the Cendrillon Ball.


Naked feet stumble over the tangles of light on the cobbled pavement, a copper ocean on her left and a copper ocean on her right. And above, a sky painted rosy pink adorned with satin ribbons of gold. The girl with wolf ears glides with the beginnings of the moon hanging in her eyes.


She is water, gentle, flowing, rushing. Gentle, flowing, rushing down the path in a flutter of moonbeams and fragile moth's wings. "Soon, lovely one..hushhh.." the night air brushes softly against her lips and hums into her upward ears. A skylark sings, a lullaby for weary souls. "Soon-"


No. Nelly refused to listen, sleep would have to wait a little longer. There was still a flame licking at her insides, the flame kept her awake. Sleep can wait.


xxx


Morning arrived without a sound, the glorious kingdom stirred before Nelly's eyes. In the air so fresh and invigorating lingered the promising scent of blossoms and the echo of birdsong. Lips part as they revel in the glamorous atmosphere, as they flourish in the youthful breeze.


"Miss, you must be here for the Cendrillion Ball,"


A kindly voice from a guard with the royal emblem pinned onto his shining armor dragged Nelly from her reveling.


"Oh yes, I am."


Her lively words are accompanied by a toothy grin.


"This way miss."


The witch was led through bustling street stalls and electric crowds of wealthy lords and ladies, the infectious atmosphere seemed to seep in to Nelly's bones and with sparkling eyes the girl reached her destination: the pearly gates of Waltz Castle.

 

[DemonKitten]

Delicate as if never walked on her own, Aiko stepped from the carriage with no hand extended to help her as they feared catching her sickness. She did not scoff, but inwardly rolled her eyes at the reminder that they could not catch which was only given to her. Aiko's stick shoe feet upon the ground almost tripping having never actually practiced walking in apparel like this. Catching herself before eyes turned at her mishap, Aiko gave a slight cough causing the carriage people to quickly scurry off before the girl could cast her sickness upon them. She slightly hissed, something she was oddly good at, before lifting her head up and continuing down the road.


"Dear brother, I wish we could of rode together. How much more pleasant this would have been," she spoke out loud to herself having been a lonely child that's own voice was sometimes the only sound she heard.


People along the road whispered and she could make out a few stray words. They spoke of her hair and how the white was unreal, unhealthy. They spoke of her mind saying she must be out of it to talk to herself. They also spoke of her clothing noting that it was quite nice and that she must be here for the ball. The one topic that they all seemed to share was the question of who she was. No one had ever actually seen the Princess of Greedo except for those inside the castle walls and even they were limited. Aiko couldn't help but marvel at that fact. For once, she could portray herself in anyway she wanted. She wasn't being forced to spoon down a liquid she knew was only causing her harm or be looked at like she carried the disease of rats.


"I am Yuki here.. That is what I will call myself. A new me!" she boasted cheerfully before coughing and a slight spot of blood fell on her finger tips.


She quickly lapped up the blood with her head turned from the people. Aiko had forgotten a handkerchief so she had to return the liquid to her body.


"I will not bee seen as sickly," she whispered in a voice that only she could hear.


Straightening herself, Aiko ran her hand through her white hair that had a slightly grey tint to it before continuing on her journey to the castle. She would have to first make it to the medical bay in order to take her poison before noon as well as inform her brother of her new fake identity. That means that they will not be able to always converse with each other. She doubted he would accept doing so, but this was her first time free and she would not let her moments whither as Aiko, Princess of Greedo.


"Who wants to be that princess?" She stopped for a pause as if someone would answer, but no one did.


"No one...That's who," she huffed tripping along the path.

 

[Pretzel Heart]

Kiefer Arlie Avescamp

​

The fine letters that detailed an entire lifetime of memories were nothing but blurred blotches on second hand parchment.


He drew the book closer, his nose tip brushing the rough pages. His eyes focused on the cream colored blurs, and then searched for meaning among the black.


Exactly two inches in front of his face, and the text was clear. His mission. His life. His modus operandi. All of it written in the fine script of his own hand. Any further back, and the meaning vanished. Too close, and the words took on an entirely new meaning, full of terror.


"Your Highness, we have arrived."


The carriage pulled to a stop. It was now dusk, and he couldn't prevent a shadow of worry from seeping into his thoughts. They had arrived too early. Would it not look too suspicious? Too eager?


No. Kiefer would have arrived early, anyways. He had been situated close to the border, and couldn't have been in more of a hurry to leave Nezzie to carry out his sacred mission...


With a sigh he closed the book, wrapping the leather strap that bound it as tight as it would stretch and slipping it inside a pocket concealed within his waistcoat. The book that no one must ever see. The words meant only for his eyes. He already planned to never let it leave his sight, not that he had really needed to bring it at all. Countless times reading and reading and reading and reading every page had scripted the tight cursive onto his very brain.


In exchange for the book, he took out a pair of thick, ornate glasses, and placed them on the bridge of his nose, waiting for the images around him to clear.


But no, something was wrong...


Removing the glasses once again, hovering them in front of his face at the one distance he could safely examine them, the young man noticed there were still some splotches obscuring the glass from earlier. His eyes instinctively darting from side to side, he fished out his pocket handkerchief and wiped the spectacles once again.


Rubbing back and forth.


Over


and


over.


Flecks of dry brown that could have been dirt.


For some reason the spot wasn't coming out.


"Master, is something the matter?"


He jolted back upright, thrusting the glasses onto his face and melding back into perfect clarity.


"This isn't Waltz Castle."


"No, we will head there presently. For now I thought it might be wise to rest here."


A new wave of uncertainty filled the young man, and he poked his head outside. They were in a forest, lanterns floating through the trees. He could hear hushed laughter, like a secret ritual, emanating from somewhere in the darkness nearby.


"And why is this a wiser place to stop than my room in the Princess's Château?"


Just by saying that word - princess - he could feel spill from himself a priceless weightiness as if precious jewels were falling from his lips.


Or maybe not quite jewels. Just little rocks, hiding untold mysteries...


"But Master, don't you think we should---?"


"My orders were to go straight to Waltz Castle. I don't know why you have gotten it into your mind to travel elsewhere. Have you forgotten the gravity of our mission? It's slipups like this which will ruin everything."


The coachman seemed a bit disheartened by his lord's words, and for a second the young man had a flash of recognition, realizing that his servant's day had been just as endless as his own, tirelessly sitting in front of the simple carriage, disguised as a merchant cart lest they run into trouble circling Lepumir, mindlessly driving forward the horse while always keeping one petrified eye on the unseeable horizon...


"It's fine, Vladimir. We will have time for this sort of thing later. As for now, it's best we get to the castle."


"Yes, Your Highness."


It was strange. Despite his heritage, he was still finding it awkward to be giving out such commanding orders like this. For much of Kiefer's life he had been locked away, his parents fretting over his health, and it was only recently that he had decided to take matters into his own hands, commanding relief troops along the border.


It was times like these that he could feel his own nobility blooming inside him, just like the flowers he so tenderly raised.


Cautiously, almost lovingly, his hand came to rest at the spot on his chest where, underneath several layers of lace and silk, the notebook lay.


An hour later and they reached the castle.


As it was too late for the King to give him a formal meeting, he was contented with being shown to his guest house by an aria, after making sure that his coachman and the few other guards and servants he had brought to accompany him - a skilled and precious few, given the need to be inconspicuous, and given the fact that his troops needed all the help they could get maintaining the border - were also accommodated for.


The guest rooms built for the representatives of Nezzie were one of the furthest back in the Château, followed only by Lepumir in a strange flip-flop of geographical truth, which the young man assumed must be because the designers were keeping an aesthetic eye on the country's' national colors. Still, the sight of the closed door emblazoned with the seal of a silver hare left an empty, unpleasant feeling in his heart. This year, at least, the door would remained unopened, wouldn't it?


No one knew where the prince of Lepumir was...


Trying not to think of such things, he turned his focus towards his own door. For a full one hundred years the nobility of Nezzie had been coming here, for a full month, living in this very house. Thanks to his parents' needlessly worrying over his health, Kiefer hadn't had the opportunity until today. In fact, he had never even been to Euthalia in the realm of his recognized memory. As a baby, he was sure he had been brought here by his parents to receive Euthalia's blessing, but such a thing would be impossible to recall beyond imagination.


Like the Princess, this Cendrillion Ball would be Kiefer's own official "coming out" into the world of international politics. And the responsibility hung around him in thick clouds of smoke, far more troubling than his stilted eyesight.


His thoughts turning to the Princess once more, he wondered if, at this hour, she was in her room in the Château. Surely she must be, carrying out whatever mystic trials women go through on the eve of an important social event. In any case, it would be most improper to go to her now, as much as he wanted to. Under the stillness of darkness, to hold her strong hands again at last after so many years---


He wanted to be the first representative she laid eyes on. He would burn his image into her memory, fill her thoughts with nothing but himself, until his victory for the sake of his people was secured.


She would dance with no one else but him at the crowning event. That was simple fact.


But in this firm resolving of his mission, the young man couldn't help but let his mind wander around the softness of her eyes that he had last seen so many years ago. The way her lips had flowered as she giggled about the "funny way" he had pronounced the names of her country's beloved flora...


The sight of a sealed envelope caught his eyes and pulled him from his musings. It lay resting innocently on the wide, canopied bed hung with lavenders and blues, and yet he approached it as one approaches a spider. That is, until he spied the royal seal of Euthalia - his body relaxing as he cut through the wax.


An invitation from the King for the banquet tomorrow evening, and promises to officially meet the Princess.


He already knew that he would find her before then, anyway, but it was the promise of things that felt reassuring.


Tomorrow.


From this moment on, he would carry proudly the weight of the Nezzie royal name, as their sole heir: Kiefer Avescamp.


All he needed to do now was follow the words that had been written for him in the notebook,


and all would come to pass, as it should.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Nelly Lin



​

The fragile invitation fluttered in her hand as the breeze threatened to steal it away, the heat from the flame that rushed through her veins spluttered inside of her as she stood before those gates. It trembled and morphed into a monstrous thing, cold pinpricks run up her arm and down her back. This was no place for a Witch, she could feel the gazes on her now, ones she had not sensed before. Nelly had shriveled, withered up inside like a leaf in the Winter. Vulnerable to ignorant feet, big and hungry and demanding. She turned and fled into the arms of the electric crowd and the bustle of the market.


Fear it pierced her like a lover's words would only excluding the warmth and friendship they offered. Fear and the Wolf-girl were enemies. No magic in the world could contain the dread that seized her heart.


Fear was also her friend, he carried her onward, pressed her forward and away. By now, the girl had slowed to a walk and the herd of customers gradually dissipating to pairs. A hand grasps a stitch in her side and her heart pulses against her chest but the Wolf-girl refuses to be tired as it flocks around her, worse than the electric crowd, as it squeezes her skull.


The stalls that line Samba Square shrouds the air with scents, fills it with spice and sweetness in a mixture of pleasantness that banishes the fear that dug toxic claws into her.


A creature advances, one with claws and ginger fur, a rumbling noise erupts from it's mouth as she kneels to stroke it.


"Sweet thing, you've been through a lot today haven't you," she remarks the twigs snagged in the feline's fur and plucks them from their abode, yellow whirlpool eyes meet hers and the witch coos, her lips forming words unheard to the people flowing past. Would normal girls chat with cats she wonders.


Small hands scoop the creature up and her gaze flickers toward the bearer of those hands, a young girl.


"Socks! there you are!" the exclamation provided a response to her thoughts. The child mutters in a chiding tone before gazing up at the Witch "don't worry misses, he's always going missing. Just a few minutes ago a huge knight--this big," energetic hands paint a picture in front of Nelly "he brought him down for me."


Observant eyes peer up at the Wolf-girl "Oh my! you're a Witch! I've never met one before," energetic hands fly to her 'O' shaped mouth.


"I'm Nelly and you're absolutely correct, it's a pleasure to meet you,"


The once bubbly soul becomes timid standing under her shadow and she clutches the squirming feline closer to her chest.


Nelly's lips quirk into a smile as something in her stirs, she see's herself in the child and in a moment of daring she slips the carefully crafted flower crown from her head and plops it on to the young girl's who sheds the fear and bounces in delight.


"Thank you misses! I'm off to tell my friends," energetic hands wave as they grow further away. The Wolf-girl wished she could dismiss fear like the child could.

 

[Unwavering Knight]

The Long March...


In prior times, in other cities, he had heard disparaging arguments how it was oftentimes difficult to traverse through such large gatherings to find the aim of the journey. Yet, here, as before, the knight found that he was given plenty of space, his imposing presence commanding instinct-driven caution as he tread through the streets with rigid gaze but slight, playful jump in his otherwise even gait.


His perceptions were aflame. He could hear a thousand voices screeching, roaring and crying, while the stench of mundane wares, extraordinary tools, blood, feces and other wasted bodily fluids mixed with the distinct oils of various sorts of meat, the ground beneath him vibrating, trembling with the steps of innumerable feet of humanoids, cattle and carriages...


Such was the thrilling aroma of grand wishes and filth-filled dreams, produced by the wonderful purity of life. The knight's breath gained in heat. Still it was that even within this crowd, he remained isolated. A matter that he could not imagine to be different, natural, unchangeable like the growth of trees or rising and falling of tides. As such, he felt little for it.


But that didn't mean he felt nothing.


Distinct as he was, it did not take much time for a guard to approach him, moving through the crowd with his own respect-driven spacing directly into the knight's path. Identities are easily ascertained, a parchment quickly handed over to the armored frame before polite farewells are forced to allow return to the call of duty.


The helmeted gaze inspected the paper resting in his claw, figure standing still like a rock in the crowd for almost a minute, before resuming his path with indifferent silence.


Nothing had changed...

 

[ParadoxalPaladin]

[Asuran Dorix, Viscount of the Dorimun Dukedom]





The sharp crack! of the carriage wheel kicked Asuran from what was already a fitful slumber, and he quickly rose into a sitting position. Even as he sat up, he still felt the weariness of too few hours of sleep; they'd left their territory long before the sun had touched the horizon, in hopes to make it to Euthalia before the banquet began. It wasn't a fun measure, but Asuran understood it was necessary to get the talking going as quickly as possible. After all, the early bird gets the worm. As another rut sent his head crashing into the roof of the carriage, he decided that he wouldn't be resting any longer today. Who knows, perhaps a bit of fresh air would do me some good he thought to himself as he rose to his feet in the small covered area.


Rapping his knuckles three times against the divider between him and the driver, he waited for a moment as the prearranged signal brought the cart to a halt. Opening the door, he was immediately greeted by the captain who was commanding the small division of men that traveled with him, whose head was already down in a bow. "I hope we haven't been pushing your men too hard out here, Captain," Asuran said, giving the man a nod of respect. The carriage was small enough that there was no space for riders, so every man who came along with them had to go by foot. Luckily for the troops there was a breeze that brought with it a slight chill, which hopefully would make the quick pace bearable. He knew from personal experience in hours of saber practice in the hot sun that armor was not something that was built for hot weather.


Stepping down, he briskly walked to the front of the wagon, acknowledging each of the soldiers as he went. They were those he trusted most in the royal guard; it paid more than anything to have loyal men by your side should a battle come. Stepping up on the front of the carriage, he made himself comfortable beside the driver on the simple wooden bench that served as a driver's seat. "Carry on," he said, clapping the driver on the shoulder and settling back for what would be a long journey.


As the miles rolled by under them, the perfect weather became uninteresting, and Asuran's thoughts strayed from the uninteresting expanses of fields that seemed to cover their path. He still disliked such a function as this ball. Even as people died and countries were destroyed by a rebellion that only continued to fester in the North, all these fools wanted to worry about was dancing and parties. However, he could not deny that his own plans relied heavily upon this event: play everything right, and the Dorimun Dukedom was poised to take over all of Euthalia. Mess this up, and all that would be left of his kingdom or most of the continent might be an Arien empire.


A sudden sight upon the horizon shook him from his thoughts, and he shot up straight in his seat. During his mental lapse they had entered a somewhat populated area, and some sort of wagon was upon the road ahead, with a gathering of people around it. Twisting in his seat, he called back to the soldiers "We've got company men, gear up!"

 

[wizard nibblers]

Kip threw open the Princess’ door to find the princess laid amidst a pile of dresses at the foot of her open armoire, white lace and pink silk swallowing her whole save for the two legs sticking out of the pile. Upon hearing the door open, she rocked herself upright, sitting in only a chemise with her hair askew.


“Are the preparations ready, then?” she asked, grinning widely.


Kip stood dumbfounded at the door, expecting to find a princess prepared to attend the banquet instead of the indecent creature sprawled on the floor. “What preparations?”


“You know...” the princess leaned in to whisper, as if there was anyone around to hear. “The doppleganger?” she punctuated her last word with a conspicuous wink.


Kip sighed. “Oh princess, I was only joking.” The princess’ face fell as he waved his wand over the gowns to have them float back into the armoire. “Come on now, get up quickly, there isn’t much time left before the banquet and you need to be ready to greet the people.”


“But... No! I can’t do it Kip, I won’t!” She threw her fists on the ground in protest, wispy strands of her rat nest hairdo floating as she shook her head. “Everyone expects me to talk and- and dance and- and have all these manners and talk about the kingdom and to know what to do when all I know is that I just can’t do it!”


“Oh yes you can.” Kip grasped her hairbrush from the vanity with both tiny arms and set to work on her hair. “What about all your lessons? Everything you’ve worked for up until now, hm? You’re not as bad as you think you are.” He grunted, tiny body maneuvering the brush with a technique developed over years of practice.


The princess crossed her arms with a huff. “Yes I am,” she grumbled.


“Really? What about all the other years then? The other balls? Nobody spoke ill of your dancing. And if I recall, the others were charmed by your conversation. You did it then, what’s so different now?” The princess remained silent, frowning. Kip finished brushing her hair, pushed up his large glasses with a paw, and floated over to her accessory drawer. He hauled out a simple tiara with inlaid emeralds, a magical accessory that was normally used for dance, but the outfit that accompanied its transformation was suitable enough for dinner, especially with such short notice. He laid it in her lap and broke the silence, “Just transform with this and be in the main hall as soon as you can.” She took it gently in her hands and fiddled with the hanging gem in the middle as he went to leave.


“I’ll only go if-” she spoke suddenly, stopping Kip in his path out the door, “If you agree that if I can’t do it, if I decide that I can’t handle myself out there, you’ll let me trade places with someone later.”


Kip laughed nervously, “Princess, it was only a joke-”





“No it wasn’t, there really was a book on that sort of thing, I saw you reading it in the library. Just... Please let me?”


Kip was silent. “Very well then. But you have to try, Princess. Please.”





“I will, I promise.”


“Then I will expect you in the dining hall before the hour is up.”

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Strange tides...


Helbrecht's rigid pace and straight, narrow path would have easily allowed for the assumption that the knight was single-mindedly aiming for his goal, ignoring all other sources of distraction. In truth, he had trouble finding his way, with the perpetual volume of the crowd and the flooded streets, even as Waltz Castle loomed in his sight, getting there proved difficult at this time of this particular day. He could have scaled the housings, ignore the amalgamation of races, species and personalities and simply go straight for his destination, all the while earning calls from rightfully suspicious guards, of course.


But, truth of the matter was, the knight enjoyed being absconded in such a large procession of people, and he didn't mind delaying his journey, even if most attempted to keep their distance from his form, armed and armored as he was. Given the room he had, it was no trouble reaching onto his back to retrieve one of his prized possessions. Carefully, his claw-like hand took hold of the withered rosewood, scratches and age-worn tears in the instrument unable to conceal its form: a violin, simple but whole.


Whereas before the stares he received were frightened and disapproving, now they were curious and befuddled as he walked on with the small instrument held to the crook of his neck in practiced fashion, sounds easily drowned in the chaos of the crowd, but all too audible to himself. Which had to be enough, he told himself.


With his helmeted gaze, one might have thought that he was focusing on his playing and the path ahead. In actuality, his view was wandering as freely as the circumstances allowed, inspecting appraised wares, conversing townspeople and various other curiosities.


And finally, one in particular, made the knight come to a slow halt. With his head tilting slightly to the side, he inspected what might have been a standardized human female, though her unnatural set of wolfish ears affixed to her scalp betrayed her heritage even for the cursory glance, white fur seamlessly adding to the light shade of her attire, with only her elongated fingers going unnoticed to the untrained eye.


And, currently, a giver of flowers to damsels that had only a tenuous grip on their feline creatures, the knight noted as she knelt down to grant an accessory to the one he had served earlier. Considering the respective differences in bone structure and assembly of sinews, family-ties were unlikely.


The child sped off, but the knight remained. Supernatural forces flowed with varying intensities throughout the lands, creating strange and mystical creatures and he himself had always felt a certain pull towards them, for unknown reasons. He had dissected a number of them in an attempt to unfold that secret, without success. That pull remained, though he was not one to act on instinct alone. What made him change his path to a slow gait towards her was, in the end, just idle curiosity.


"Hail." his harsh voice accentuated his towering figure even as the violin remained supported upon the crook of his neck "Your figure is of interest. Your ears are inhuman. What kind of creature would you call yourself?"


@Lady Ravenshade

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Nelly Lin



​

One by one, the lamps in the market square were brightly lit with yellow butterfly flames as the lighter made his rounds. It was approaching the afternoon and much to Nelly's surprise the sky got rather dark rather quickly here. The clouds resembled spilled cream as they fluffed about above citizens' heads, like clouds do.


She rose from her position on the ground and dusted off the dirt from her knees with a determined purse of her lips, the Witch peers, she shields her eyes as they scrutinize the seemingly faraway castle. Nelly had certainly done enough wandering for today, in fact, she'd done enough wandering to last her whole lifetime. You wander here in Saint-Lyon. In Lepumir however, one can only drift from one place to the next. Knowingly and without fail.


This could most possibly be the first time the wolf-girl had ever gotten lost. Lost in the topsy-turviness that is waves of shoppers, lost in the glory of the atmosphere that trembled with bated breath.


Nelly's heart races, it takes part in a worldwide tournament and the sound melts together like taffy that's left in a pocket for too long. It melts in a rainbow of colors. The girl's wide eyes leave the faraway castle. They sweep and lay to rest on a beast of a figure, steadily lumbering.


Who is that illuminated by yellow butterfly flames? Who is that under the shining armor? Who is that.


Now it was her turn for her spider fingers to fly to an 'O' shaped mouth. Now it was her turn to speak. The spider fingers crawl away to hang stiffly by her sides. A knight towers before the Witch and she is caught in a web. One would usually stare at the eyes but his-- it's were shielded by a visor, one would usually reply when someone inquires about oneself.


With a polite nod and a ghosting smile the wolf-girl speaks.


"Goodness! You're the knight the child spoke of!"


Nelly was very aware, Nelly had to keep her posture upright, she'd have to keep her lips greased and smiling, her tongue sharp and amusing. How glad she was that someone had approached her in this bewildering place. Even if that someone was an iron plated hulk of an it.


She beams and the her eyes crinkle at the corners at the quaint instrument situated under his shiny plated chin, she couldn't possibly imagine the Knight in front of her playing the violin, such a fragile instrument in the claws of a..well she didn't really know.


"I'm a Witch but I'd usually introduce myself as Nelly, because that is the name I was given."


"And you?" Nelly says after a heartbeat of silence. "What am I to call you?" there wasn't an emblem on his armor, not a badge, flag, zilch. It left the wolf girl feeling more lost than ever.

 

[ParadoxalPaladin]

[Asuran Dorix, Viscount of the Dorimun Dukedom]


As the wagon rolled on, it was quickly evident that the other carriage was just a traveling merchant peddling minor wares. Seeing this, Asuran sat back, and resigned himself to the fact that no matter how much he might want something to happen, this trip was doomed to be as boring as it had first appeared. Perhaps that was for the best.


Finally, after hours of the steady crawl of travel, there it was: Waltz Castle, home of the Euthalian nobility. Slowly they managed to make it into the town that huddled around the castle, and were planning upon continuing straight to the castle until something caught Asuran's eye. "Halt for a moment," he called, jumping from the carriage to the old cobbles of the street. Moving through the crowds, he made his way to the door of Samaba Square Magical Fancies and Ornamentation, pushing it open and setting the bell tinkling in the store.





The shopkeeper, a short, pudgy man, turned to him immediately and, upon seeing Asuran's expensive clothing, gave him a short bow. "What are you looking for, sir?" he asked, stepping forwards, hands clasped together.


Despite his genial manner, there way something about the man that Asuran didn't like. "Do have anything that could help me enter with a bit of a bang?" He hadn't originally planned on doing anything special, but it would be an important step to be able to catch the eye of the Princess or any other royalty who might have power. And I cannot say that I dislike being showy now and then, Asuran thought to himself with a chuckle.





"We've got a few items to woo onlookers, one of a kind. These here," he said, gesturing towards a rack of silver necklaces, "are cosmetic changes such as a temporary change of eye or hair color. We've also got a few bracelets for giving off simple illusions such as increasing the height of the wearer." Stepping into the back of the store, he returned with a locked chest, which he opened with a large brass key, revealing rows upon rows of rings, some simple, some inlaid with intricate patterns and glittering gemstones. "These are our specialties. They're made for a quick change into a set of finery of the owner's choice. Of course," a greedy glint came to his eyes, "there is a high price." As the man gave Asuran an estimate of how much it would cost, he barely kept the shock off his face at the massive sum he was charging for it.





And so we find the catch in our agreement. "I believe there is a deal we can come to," Asuran said, reaching into his front pocket for his invitation. "I'll pay one-fourth of the price of it," Asuran raised one hand to stop the storekeeper before he could object. "And I will be using this item at the Cendrillon Ball. How's that for advertisement?" With that he drew the sheet from his coat to confirm that he was, in fact, going to be in attendance.


Seeing that, the shopkeeper's eyes grew wide. "I-I had no idea you were of such high stature, milord. I of course will accept." As the man stood, Asuran withdrew a coin purse from his jacket and handed over the agreed amount before removing one of the simpler rings, just a band of silver with a minor etching of the rising sun upon it. As he turned and exited the store, he could swear that he could hear the store owner mumbling in glee about "The cash flow this will bring! I must get the men working faster!" bringing an annoyed frown to Asuran's face. He may not have any special commitment to the rights of Arie, but he knew enough of them from Wright Academy to know they were the ones who made such shops work, not the misers who took the recognition and earnings.


He was immediately distracted as he stepped out of the door, however. The Captain traveling with him was being talked to a city guard, but he couldn't hear their voices over the city's hubbub. Quickly, he stepped forward, slipping his newly bought ring onto the middle finger of his right hand as he got into earshot. "Sir, I must ask you to move your wagon, as it is causing a hold up for the street. If you would like, I would be happy to bring you to the stables of the town."





Trying to avert crisis, Asuran stepped into the conversation immediately. "Apologies, guardsman, for leaving our cart parked within the street, although I do ask that you do not blame my deputy here, as it was my choice to stop, and he was merely carrying out his duties by keeping it here." Reaching into his coat once more, he drew out the invitation to the ball. "Could you perhaps direct us to Waltz castle, and find a space for my men, horses, and carriage to rest while I am here for the festivities."





Surprised by his sudden appearance, the guard snapped into a salute. "Of course, sir. Just this way." Through the winding streets they went, inching through the crowds that spilled out across every street, haggling for goods or just enjoying the weather. Eventually they reached Waltz Castle, a structure that made Asuran go slack-jawed in awe for a moment as he saw its massive bulk up close, but somehow it managed to seem graceful, with all its sweeping curves and ornamentation covering up the great protection it gave. There the group split, with Asuran's personal guard being escorted to their quarters while Asuran himself was brought to his room, along with many servants carrying his luggage.


Each room they passed through was more astounding than the last, covered in fine silks and beautifully painted portraits. Finally, they made it to the hallway where each country's representatives would stay. Looking across the doors, he saw each royal family's crest and eventually saw that of his own Dorimun Dukedom, their signature white bear upon the royal blue background forming the crest. Pushing open his door, he found it lavishly decorated, and covered with everything a man of great stature could expect and then quite a lot more. A quick press upon the bed revealed it to be as or even more soft than the one which he slept upon at home, and the bathing facilities were more advanced than he had ever seen before.


Seeing that time was passing quickly, Asuran didn't loiter in his room, instead strolling through the castle. As he went, marveling at the great wealth that had created such a place, he kept his route moving closer and closer to the banquet hall in preparation of that night's events.

 

[Pretzel Heart]

100th Annual Cendrillion Ball ~ Day 1: Prelude

The Banquet

Status Report


Date: Sunday, April 1st


Time: Early evening (7:00 PM)


Temperature: Cool and slightly windy

In union with the sun gently falling to rest, King Regis Mutto could feel his own already uneasy spirits damper at the thought of the oncoming banquet that would officially set off the month-long festivities.


Because of this, he was being uncharacteristically harsh, snapping orders at whichever arien servant was unfortunate enough to pass him by. The only one absolved of his temper was Balthasar, who retained an aloof expression contrary to his own inner misgivings as he whirled around from group to group, checking off preparations.


The Dining Hall was decorated in Waltz Castle's finest, with no less than fifty hired arie in refined costume lining the walls in order to create magnificent allusions of hundreds of floating flames in various shapes, colors, and sizes balanced inside glass bowls and globes. Indeed the spectacle of the ceiling could only be outshone by the fineries of the glittering table set all of white, gold, and red: The color of the Royal Euthalian line. The sharp contrast of the crimson was only one of many reminders that, despite the friendly openness that the tradition of the Ball had solidified for a hundred years, there was a stricter undercurrent flowing through it like blood.


Euthalia could only afford to open its doors for a full month because they were in full control, and had the riches and resources in order to do so.


It also helped them to be able to claim possession over all the other countries' young heirs and related diplomats for so many weeks. While rarely a king, queen, duke or duchess themselves were invited to join in the festivities, being needed in their respective homelands, there was a certain political flare in being the shepherd of so many of Roserasia's young leaders to be.


That was all on the one hand.


On the other was the extreme efforts that Euthalia went through year after year to ensure that April was a joyous month for all, even if among the countless starbursts they set off, the kingdom itself remained the brightest.


But by the end of this month, perhaps, there would be a new contender.


The King paused in his rabid pacing through the halls, his mind resting on his daughter once more. If she were to choose a partner over these next thirty days, it was very likely that that partnership would lead to marriage. And thus whomever she chose to dance with would be in prime position to become the next Euthalian King.


It was a thought both comforting and unnerving. The ability to pass on the burden to someone else. The worry that they would not be ready. Would untangle the finely braided rope he had made of his continent back into the frayed strands that had plagued its peace for so long.


Still, it was hard for him to imagine such a one less inclined to rule than his own daughter.


Now the king was making his way towards her chambers. While usually she would spend most of her time in the Château, for the sake of posterity, she had been contained within the walls of Waltz Castle proper for the day, and, as he had been informed by her tutor, was currently preparing for the banquet.


With a sigh he stepped up towards the door, a strange mixture of feelings texturing the jumble that was already going through his mind.


The fact that the princess was finally going to be the hostess for this year's event...


Her choosing a partner...


And, inevitably, at the end...


Marriage


Though she was far from perfect, she was his daughter.


The king's hand, which had been posed to imposingly rap upon the door, remained still. Once he laid that hand down to rest on the finely polished, gold inlaid mahogany...there would be no turning back.


The Cendrillion Ball would begin.


And then from inside he heard a strange commotion.


"Daughter?"


The King threw open the door.


"Evalyn, are you alright?"


The Princess was standing before a long, ancient mirror encrusted with tiny star-shaped gems. Other than a simple chemise and hoop skirt, all she wore was an emerald-decorated tiara on a tumble of curled locks that a series of servants were flitting about trying to pin up.


"Traaaaaaanssfooorrrm!"


Although the weight of the Banquet, of the incoming suitors, of the dance that she was going to have to perform in front of so many judgemental eyes, in front of her father's eyes, was still as heavy as ever on the young princess's shoulders, she could not help herself but take great delight in what was to follow. With a bubbling smile on her face, she watched as a shower of sparkling emerald dust began to swirl around her, forming into long, elegant sleeves with translucent puffs and long trails, spiraling around her wire skirt to weave layer after layer of carefully embroidered cloths.


It was one of the most intricate and detailed transformation illusions that the skilled arien craftsman Amadeo could come up with, specifically fitted with the young princess in mind for such an occasion. While typically the transformation on such gowns was to take place directly before a dance, so as to dazzle with the beautiful sequence itself, in this instance, the princess thought that it might be better not to attract any more attention than she already would before her dreaded showcase.


It was also completely unnecessary for her to use the childish exclamation to start the transformation, but since childhood it had always given her an added sense of excitement, and no one was going to argue with the princess's wishes.


Seeing his daughter all dressed and ready to go, the king couldn't help but draw his frozen features into a rare smile. At last noticing her father, the princess beamed, forgetting the circumstances that had likely brought him to her room, and skipped to where he stood.


King Regis Mutto offered his hand, and for a moment the princess just looked at it quizzically. And then she understood.


"Are you ready, daughter?"


She hesitated, the smiling withering from her face, every instinct telling her to shrink from that hand and run far, far away from what it stood for.


Instead, with a winceful sigh, she replied, "Yes, father."


As they began to walk. However, she couldn't help but turn her head over her shoulder, glancing behind where Kip and Balthazar had begun to dutifully trail. She offered Kip a wrinkled nose, as if to remind her tutor:


Remember our promise.


And so, arm in arm, king and princess began to make their way towards the Dining Hall. The various guests had already been allowed entrance and shown to their seats. Other than the representatives, who each held a position of honor nearest to the king, there were other members of the lesser Euthalian nobility, a few of the wealthier, well-known merchants who had been able to ingratiate themselves enough to earn an invite, the princess's dance instructor who would be her partner for the evening, and the few newcomers whom the king's instructions had invited up from the bustle of Saint Lyon. While arien servants had been filling glasses with water and fruit wine, in reverence to the king, there was not a crumb of food yet in sight.


While the guests were all speaking quite rambunctiously among themselves, the fervor buzzing around the start of the continent's most famous and beloved tradition hovering around them like moths drawn to a lamp, at the strong brass that signaled the king's arrival, the hall fell silent.


To an elegant orchestral arrangement combining each country's national anthem (having been re-written this year for the first time in decades to incorporate the anthem of the newly invited Marine), the king and princess made their way to the head of the table.


While the chair where the queen would have sat remained empty, the princess had the next highest seat of honor, positioned to the right of her father. She noted with a sort of floaty anticipation that her chair would have placed her directly next to where the representative of Rameria would sit---


However, like her mother's, it remained empty.


Just one more disappointment, she thought, but smiled anyways as she stood by her seat, Kip hovering behind her. For a few minutes King Regis Mutto addressed his guests. Never being one for great words, he gave a terse welcoming speech that was nevertheless unusually warm for his notably frosty nature. And it was hard for him not to sneak glances - both hesitant and proud - at his daughter during his talk.


Having welcomed the guests, more or less repeating the sentiments found in the Banquet invitation letter, there was only one significant addition:


"As this tradition has shown, there has been peace and friendliness tying Roserasia together for one hundred years. Even in the face of adversity, We shall not stop in Our dedication to progress, ensuring a bright future for these, Our leaders of tomorrow. Let this year's most excellent celebration be a reminder of that."


His only other acknowledgement to the Lepumir tragedies was a slow turn to look at where the Lepumir Prince had, just a year ago, sat. His glacial gaze rested there for a moment before turning back to the crowd. There was something of a challenge burning in his eyes.


But then King Regis Mutto took his seat, signaling the arien servants to begin bringing in the first course. As for the Princess, she instantly felt as a gladiator shoved into a pit. Except instead of tigers she was faced by so many she hadn't seen in years.


She smiled a bit nervously, then with more strength.


"Welcome to the Ball."

Let the Festivities Begin!

In your post, try and resolve whatever loose ends remain from your opening, but now is the time to interact! Since (I believe, for pretty much everyone), you will not have seen each other nor the Princess for a very long time (if ever at all), feel free to play on that.


As for seat positions, it's like this:


[Head of Table] King (right) Queen (left)


[King Side] = Princess, Rameria, Galleria, Greedo (prince), Greedo (princess), Other guests


[Queen Side] = Marine, Dorimun, Sea, Nezzie, Lepumir, Other guests


Hope that makes sense! If not...eh, just wing it.


Happy RPing!

@DemonKitten , @ParadoxalPaladin , @Unwavering Knight , @Lady Ravenshade , @Arcadian
​

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Processing...


"I am I, Sir Helbrecht, knight of She-Who-Is-The-Lady." replied the knight, one hand remaining frozen in the grip around the fiddle while the other reached back again to retrieve the instrument's bow even as the helmeted stare remained affixed on Nelly "A witch, is it... your kind seems to vary in biological traits. Is it a functional mutation of your bloodline?"


With deliberate slowness the fiddlestick was led to the strings "Is it a mark inherent in your meat? Are your ears actually capable of reception?" Emphasizing his question, the violin's stretches sinews were plucked, lightly and carefully.


All in all, a bizarre sight, the claw-like fingers appearing unfitting to handle such a small instrument, the mere fact that this person preferred to uphold the act in armor making him seem far more used to conduct a savage cacophony of battle as opposed to peaceful plucking.


The beginnings of a tune, to him old and simple. Ceaseless marching, through day, night, sun and rain, walking upon a barren path that stretched into decades without end, without change. The entire time, the helmeted gaze rested on her ears, registering even the slightest movement, to be calculated, detailed and finally added to the study he would conduct later.


The melody gave comfort, but radiated a solemn note. He served, then he went on, and no one minded, for he had done his duty and thus was no longer needed. There was a goal, but it was far.


"Besides such..." his harsh voice suddenly cut through the strings, tune ceasing as the knight's hands froze mid-motion "...I appear to have trouble finding my way. I aim for the Castle Waltz proper, to attend the banquet. I have mapped the immediate surroundings of this street, but I fail to find the right path nonetheless and time is running short. Are you familiar with Saint Lyon? Do you know the way?"


[SIZE=10px]@Lady Ravenshade[/SIZE]

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Nelly Lin



​

The Knight was curious and Nelly listened as she attempted to hide the shock that threatened to surface within her. The word mutation registered an expression of upset on the girls' face.


"I beg your pardon but I do believe it's only a little ill-mannered of you to be inquiring such, when we've only just met? and as a matter of fact my ears work perfectly fine!" her chestnut brown eyes widen like saucers and the wolfgirl falls into a bout of quietude, her jaw working, her hands clenching. You know what happens when you get angry don't you Nelly? I'll bet the Knight hasn't a clue what could happen when Witches get angry.


Nelly hadn't anything else to say but perhaps to apologize. And so she did. Profusely and regretfully.


Now, a ditty trickled from the time-worn instrument as menacing hands played it almost gracefully. It surged over the Witch with utmost elegance and she drowned in it, in the simplicity of the tune and it's familiarity. Her right ear twitched and then they pricked as if delighted to hear such music. Nelly could almost taste it on the tip of her tongue, rich like honey and porridge gobbled down when she grew sickly and the annual October-pie she always helped her mother baked. It was as lovely and mysterious as a snowflake.


Oh? perked ears lower slightly at the abrupt ending and shut eyes flutter to gaze at Helbrecht as he speaks, well she assumed the voice came from the mouth of a male. The yellow butterfly flames had grown wild in the approaching evening, inky swirls of darkness littered with specks of light aglow blanketed the pale clouds, they'd vanished from sight much to the Witch's disappointment. The wild candle flames blazed like beasts eyes that sent trails of ice up her arm.


"Yes, time is running short. I'm afraid the Banquet may have already commenced," the distress was clearly apparent in her voice, "Familiar? I am not, however a kindly guard did lead me there just earlier today; your destination is exactly where I intend to be as well. What do you say we travel together?"


The pair started down the path toward the faraway castle, with yellow eyes following down the trail. How peculiar! Nelly had witnessed the very same blueberry bush earlier this morning. They were on the right path!


She recalls their conversation "Tell me Helbrecht, who is this Lady you speak of?" she speaks after a hiccough of silence "-Is she a sweetheart of yours?" chestnut eyes twinkle in the inky darkness, the wolfgirl figured if he'd asked such questions, there was no reason why she couldn't as well.

 

[Unwavering Knight]

Registered.


The witch's audio-receptors moved in accordance to the tunes, reeling back and forth as volume rose and lessened, indicating fine-tuned muscle-control with high capacity to locate threats. Future encounters with similar bloodlines would require an especially silent or far-reaching approach.


Only then did the knight catch on to Lin's pronounced distaste for his inquiries.


A metallic clink, followed by a click as the helmeted head reeled back for just a splitsecond as if hit by unseen force before immediately resetting itself, gaze now affixed on the witch's visage proper. After a moment silent posturing, still frozen in his fiddling-pose, the knight's ugly voice finally emerged "I apologise. Matters of the inherent traits are interesting. Speak a punishment and I shall render it upon myself."


Then she mentioned willingness to travel together.


The helmet slightly dipped sideway for a moment in curiosity, the claw grasping the fiddle-bow giving a slight twitch before he uttered with increased volume "Travel together we shall. To victory and glory."


Putting away fiddle and bow, the knight went alongside Lin, the evening-streets now bearing less passersby as the grand occasions drew closer to celebration. But as the witch asked for the Lady, she first only received several long moments of silence, the knight simply keeping on walking without the slightest sign of recognition.


"... the Lady is light. The Lady is warmth. She demands, She calls, She dreams." he finally spoke, with uncharacteristic slowness in his voice, the sort one used while the mind slowly retrieved old and dim memories. They had arrived at the castle gates, prompting the knight to cease his rigid gait, turning to look at Lin "A knight searches for the Lady. For the Lady beside him so to stand, a knight can do quite anything; outfly the bird upon the wing, hold moonlight in his hand."


A click, the helmeted head tilted slightly to the side again "Do you have a Lady that you seek?"


@Lady Ravenshade

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Nelly Lin



​

As soon as the question left her lips she had regretted it almost instantly and the silence that trailed after seemed to smother the once uplifting environment, Nelly dwindled behind the Knight, and came to the conclusion that perhaps he hadn't heard the question through the helmet. Wasn't it hot in there? she wondered whilst studying the back of his armored head rather intently. Had she somehow insulted the man behind the shiny iron plates?


The Witch settled into the depths of her thoughts and unspoken queries that swam around in her head, she subsided within the beating of her heart, flitting with exhilaration like a stray bat would in the night air. The hulking figure before her strode with certainty, she could tell he was a man of austere and disciple. The Witch was a rather fidgety one, she sprung down the flagstone with feather feet akin to a child avoiding pavement cracks. A night lark sang along with the wind who carried festive chatter on it's back, her fingertips tingled, they were on the right path.


Castle gates bloomed before the travelling companions, the wrought iron bars illuminated by white spilling from open balcony windows. They had arrived.


A discordant voice tugged Nelly from her wonderings and she found that translating the words the Knight spoke was a rather arduous task than it was earlier, it was different somehow.


The wolf-girl gave a small unladylike squeal at his words "What a lovely way to speak of her, she must be a fortunate Lady!" her eyes are aglow and shining. How she would adore it if one would describe her so.


"We-ll, Seeking is a field where I have absolutely no expertise in, this Lady you speak of would take me eons to find," she chirps with a twinkling laugh. The gate! The gate! It motions for her with a crooked finger, must it call so? Only then does Nelly become mindful of her choice of attire, muddied from her adventure through Saint-Lyon and stained with purple berry whorls.


A discontented mutter emits from her mouth as she glances down "That won't do," the wolf-girl presses a hand on her hips in contemplation before a beam breaks her frown, the girl reaches down to grasp a young daisy and lays it on the palm of her hand.


"Florianus verto seres," at that phrase the white petals twirled and swept, they morphed into an ocean of silk that curled to her feet and around her cloak. The stem twines up her arm like vines and embroider the silken dress with delightful swirling patterns. The Witches' lips turn up at the corners and she twirls, basking in the feeling of being in such a beautiful creation of her very own. She felt elegant, and unusually graceful and it was wonderful.


"Will you be taking off your helmet?" spider fingers wave at the object and her head tilts, attempting to imagine the face behind it. The odd pair prepare to enter Waltz Castle. Her most marvelous dream awaiting behind it's great doors.

.

 

[The Succubi Queen]

Naomi Marie ThalassaPrincess of the Marine Kingdom

This entire day had been a bit of a mess, Naomi could and would affirm to anyone who asked her (provided they weren't a political enemy looking for reasons to discredit her). Everything had seemed rather simple last night aboard the vast tall ship that had brought her into port this morning- then again, everything always seemed a lot more simple on the sea, didn't it?


The Marine Princess had left Aqueous in the most confident of moods- ready to take on the political and social quagmire of the Cendrillon Ball and make future ties for her grand nation state, even if the mainland was filled with backwards, control obsessed, fools. She had assured her parents for the final time that she had no need of an attendant ("I am a proud Mariner woman and I do not need a vassal to dress me." she had insisted.) The journey had been calm and relaxing, and as she always did upon the ocean, she felt free and alive like nothing else.


Of course, now that she had made land in Saint Lyon, things were rather different. The city seemed vastly foreign to her, and she had not even been met with an entourage to assist her with her luggage- did Roserasians really not have common courtesy- did they expect her servants (which were nonexistant) to carry her things after such a long sea journey? How rude. Plus, all the people were giving her odd looks- maybe due to her dress, which only came to her upper calfs- did they really expect her to wear a full length gown on a boat? Still, she managed to haggle a few deckhands off the boat to escort her 3 trunks and one large cosmetic box to the carriage she had rented.


Once they were onboard the rickety carriage, she hopped onto the driver seat- only realize there was someone else there. "Excuse me- who are-" then she remembered. On the Mainland, Carriages came with drivers. She gave a small frown, nodded once, and took her seat in the back of the carriage with her trunks. She made a point to keep the window open and see as much of the city as she could passing through.


At the Banquet

She had been seated next to the empty seat of the Queen, across from the Princess herself. She supposed she ought to feel honored, but she knew enough of politics to understand she was in this place for a reason. She smoothed the fabric of her gown, and gave the princess a small nod, with an elegant smile. "I am honored by your invitation. My family hopes this will be a sign of renewed relations between our nations." She said this mostly to the King, but made sure to make it clear she was also addressing the Princess.


She gave a small glance out of the corner of her eye to the seat next to her- the place card had noted that the representative from Dorimun was supposed to sit next to her. That was one of the Dukedoms on the mainland, she recalled. Next to the princess was the representative from Rameria. She hadn't really paid attention to anyone else. She racked her brain for what information she could recall on their political leanings- would this assignation be helpful to her? Or would the two prove to be enemies to her goals?


She frowned slightly as the Arian servant placed her plate in front of her-were all of the servants Arian? Were all of these citizens stuck in the serving class? She had a vague awareness of their lower status on the mainland, but hadn't fully understood it until now. She had her work cut out for her here, it seemed.


"I, however, must admit I'm most excited for the prospect of the ball itself." She lied smoothly, trying to distract herself from the servants. Good Impressions, Naomi, she reminded herself. Naomi then returned her attention to the Princess. "Do you much enjoy dancing, your Highness?"


Spoken to: @Pretzel Heart (King and Princess)


Also mentioned: @ParadoxalPaladin (Asuran Dorix)

 

[MLAQTS]

Rien Lapine

Morning | in the Waltz Castle Library

Rien had been studying in the library when an attendant had come to him, a fellow rabbit aria like himself, though much shorter in stature; Rien was exceptionally tall for his kind.


"Sir Lapine," the attendant had said, "by the command of His Majesty Regis Mutto Euthalia, I have been sent to deliver to you an invitation to the 100th annual Cendrillon Ball."


Rien lifted his head from the book which he was reading, A Treatise on Transmutation: Fifth Edition.


"The Ball?" he inquired, furrowing his brows slightly, "It is clear that your servant is only an aria himself. What occurrence has there been to warrant the invitation of one like myself?"


The attendant explained the situation as the king had instructed him; "It is for Her Highness the Princess Evalyn Euthalia, sir. Her Highness is yet young, and has no established partner with whom to perform the traditional opening showcase dance to the banquet. Such being, His Majesty the King decided that you would be the most appropriate candidate for whom to fill the role."


"I see; you may retire, kind attendant." Rien nodded his acknowledgement of the situation to the aria, and took the parchment which he proceeded to hand to him.


After the attendant retired, Rien chuckled slightly to himself. Another dance with the princess? I do wonder how this shall turn out. A month of instruction was all she could endure, I suppose. How like her, I do suppose such a thing was to be expected.


Rien had been informed by the king that he was better received by the princess than his predecessor; but it seemed that the nation's fascination for dancing was wholly absent in their princess, and that not even the most skilled of instructors would be able to kindle it within her. I suppose then, that we shall be performing the Choro Amoris tonight, thought Rien.


The Choro Amoris was Rien's own invention; originally a witch's curse known as the Ritus Peccati: Luxuriae (Rite of Sin: Lust), which was modified by Rien to be suitable for performance as a social duet. It was the only dance which he was able to teach the princess in the brief time while she was still willing to attend his lessons.

Evening | at the Banquet

Rien sat across from the Princess of Greedo, next to the empty chair normally reserved for the representative of the Lepumir Kingdom. Truly tragic, thought Rien to himself, if only he were still here. Alas, I seem now to be almost like him, representing the current state of the Kingdom, or remains of it at least; a kingdom in ruin. What am I though, to a regal prince? Such a shame it is what the war has done to the Kingdom; if only all this could be achieved without violence, how pleasant it all would be then...


His thoughts were interrupted as a platter was placed before him by an arian servant. The signs of fatigue from arduous labour were only partially concealed by his polished expression. Indeed, the expression was only polish; polish for the burdens of labour, invisible to the eyes of the many noblemen whom were well accustomed to such pleasures.


I suppose even I am not the most unfortunate, a slight frown came across Rien's face, though surely I've had my fair share of burdens. Indeed, I suffered only in the past, while so many around me suffer in the present; and what are the events of the past to the state of one whom resides only in the present?


Deciding that reminiscing over the past was of no benefit, Rien turned to the Prince of the Nezzie Kingdom, who sat two seats away from him, on the other side of the empty seat of the absent Lepumir Prince. It was a familiar face from his readings, and Rien knew quite a lot about his person. Seeing that the others were around him were each engaged in conversation, he spoke to the Nezzie Prince. "Your Majesty the Prince Kiefer Avescamp of the Nezzie Kingdom, greetings from your servant Rien Lupine, Royal Dance Instructor to the Euthalia Kingdom. I hear word from the criers that there has been great civil discord recently in your homeland, and for such I do grant my dearest condolences; how is the state of affairs there, and for yourself their dear prince, if I might inquire upon such a topic?"

Addressed: @Pretzel Heart (Prince Kiefer Avescamp)

 

[ParadoxalPaladin]

Asuran Dorix

Stepping through the door to the banquet hall, Asuran arrived just as the king began his opening speech. Embarrassed, he stopped by the door and waited for a moment until King Mutto finished, giving a solemn acknowledgement of the missing Lepumir representatives when they were brought up. Even though he knew little of them, their sudden death was a shocking reminder of the mortality of nobility, no matter how strong they may seem. As the moment of silence passed, he shook himself to remove the sad thoughts from his head, steeling himself for the work ahead. He had never loved the social aspect of ruling, but for the moment it was more important than ever.


Stepping forwards, Asuran bowed as deeply as he could to the king. "I deeply apologize for the lateness of my arrival. I do hope you con forgive me, and I offer my sincerest condolences to those affected by the disappearance of the royal family of Lepumir." Stepping forward, he was running over what he had said in his head. Was I too forward? Perhaps I overstepped my bounds by trying to but in directly after King Mutto? Mainly, however, he was cursing himself and his own tardiness; a social faux pas such that was already one mistake too many.


Quickly he made his way to his seat, already searching through the other representatives, trying to get an idea of who they were. As one of the lesser countries, the Dorimun Dukedom was rarely at events. Because of this, that last time he'd met most of the others was the last Ball, and some attendees were new additions to the group, the most immediate of which was the woman sitting to his left. While her manner seemed polite, her dress was bordering on what some may call scandalous. He cared little for what people wore most of the time, but even he could see that it was a little... far. However, seeing her place card he tried to reign in any preemptive judgement; after all, it was unsurprising the Marine Kingdom had very different customs than the mainland. Even his own Dukedom had multiple traditions others would see rather... strange to outsiders.


The princess, sitting across and up the table, had all the grace and poise as befitted her position, her red hair very striking. She seemed somewhat uncomfortable, but he chalked that up to simple nerves that anyone would have; after all, this was her grand year, and a huge amount of weight was resting upon her. In truth, her decision would be the driving force of the future of the entire continent. His neighbor other than the Marine princess was the prince of Nezzie, a young man who from what he knew went by Keifer Avescamp. He wore a pair glasses, an uncommon addition to one's wardrobe, as they were from what Asuran knew somewhat complicated to create the magic for. However, if he needed them, there was no reason for a member of royalty not to have them.


Nodding his head in respect to each person at the table, Asuran turned to Keifer, as he seemed to not yet be in conversation. "Greetings. I am Asuran Dorix of the Dorimun Dukedom. It is a pleasure to meet you. How goes Nezzie since the rebellion, if that is not too forward of me to ask?" He made a point of not directly addressing Keifer by name; Asuran didn't know what the polite style of addressing another ruler was, and so decided he would go with however the Prince decided to speak to him.

@Pretzel Heart - (I'm assuming Keifer is at the banquet, sorry if I'm wrong!)


@The Succubi Queen - Mentioned

 

[DemonKitten]

Looking for Medical Bay

Entering the Waltz Castle, Aiko gazed around the wondrous halls much more eloquent than that of her own home which was suffering from financial issues. Still, she could careless of the state of the castle as she raced to find her brother's location in the medical bay.


"So would it be this way?" The smallish Princess wandered around the castle aimlessly as she opened random doors not at all considerate of what could be behind them. Why should she be? It wasn't like she cared much for her kingdom or her standing since she was destined to die according to her father. A cough came as she stopped to clear her throat causing an echo through the great halls.


Aiko soon caught the attention of some servants who noticed her ball gown and insisted that she was late for the banquet.


"I must find my brother first," she informed them, but the merely ignored her feeble pleas as they ushered her to the banquet doors.


"Surely your brother would be here already," they insisted as they appeared in front of the grand entrance that could only be that to the dining. Aiko sighed as she was now back where she started and no more closer to finding the medical bay. Seeing the truth in what the servants spoke before the vanished, Aiko decided that her medicine could wait for a few moments while she ate. It wasn't like the medicine was actually there to help her.


Entering the Banquet

Deciding to enter, Aiko prepared to push the large doors, but they were opened automatically by another couple of workers of the castle.


"Isn't that just dandy," she spoke quietly to herself before looking for her seating arrangement. The white haired girl stood there awkwardly not at all use to all the people that surrounded the table as well as she had no clue as to where she should go. Tapping on the shoulder of a near by servant, Aiko looked for some guidance.


"Uh, sir, do you mind telling me where the Princess of Greedo is suppose to seat herself?" she inquired in third person and the man seemed to look around the table.


"Ah, yes. Princess of Greedo is seated on the King's side across from Sir Lapine," he responded in an eloquent manner before continuing on his duties leaving Aiko with no reason to thank him.


"Who in Roserasia is Lapine?" she thought slightly to loud, but was kindly "gestured" to the rabbit looking man. Shying away from the slightly awkward looks, Aiko walked over to her seat. She had never met an Arie before and became fascinated with his highly long ears. If her brother was here, he would of told her not to be so rude by staring, but also would of been just as curious as her.


Aiko felt a cough itch her throat, but was quick to suppress it in order not to gain any more attention than she already had.


At least I'm not the only one with white hair, Aiko thought as Lapine's fur was as white as her hair, though probably whiter which gave her a slight comfort as she had no solace in her brother. Still wondering where he was, Aiko kept her eyes turned towards the doors for any moment, perhaps he would enter.

 

[Pretzel Heart]

Kiefer Arlie Avescamp

​

Other than the fraught anticipation of the next month's endeavors, Kiefer's first night faded into his first day in Saint Lyon with little of interest to note. While he had been intent on encountering the Princess as quickly as possible, providence had intervened, leading him into a fruitless goose chase throughout Saint Lyon tracing her shadow. Rumors of having seen the unusually red-haired maiden echoed throughout the market and city, but she was nowhere to be seen. That was, until a royal servant informed him that she had already returned to Waltz Castle and had been ensconced in her private quarters since early that afternoon.


Having nothing better to do but wait until the Banquet, Kiefer had done his best to become familiar with the castle's structure, carefully tracing over every square inch, making detailed notes into his book. Whenever a curious servant or guard seemed to get a touch too close, he would instinctively shrink away, pressing the worn pages to his chest and looking down over his glasses at the intruder with mild suspicion.


He didn't think anyone would question him, really. Kiefer had indeed been traumatized by his interactions with arie, as of late.


The morning's gambit about Saint Lyon had also provided useful information about the town, and listening to the commoner's hubbub had further provided him with several intriguing rumors.


Every word going in careful script inside the little book.


Experience after experience.


Memory after memory.


The beautiful and the ugly, all recorded there for him to relive, over and over.


He also was careful to poke around the other representatives' rooms in the Château, taking note of who had already arrived and who was running disrespectfully late. But such absences just meant he could examine their quarters with them being unawares. Rameria...Galleria...Ceasar, well, now Sea, and, of course, Lepumir.


Only the door to the last had been firmly bolted shut.


And yet, it was over Lepumir that he hesitated the longest. His rough fingers, worn from so many days spent in the garden, traced the delicate silver of the hare's ears. Stroking over the lifeless face.


With a sigh, he had retreated back to his own room next door. His eyes danced across one of the walls on the righthand side, realizing that the sealed-off rooms of Lepumir's legacy lay just beyond. For a single, wild moment, his brain conjured up the image of the white-haired prince, waiting in secret on the other side of that barrier. The door to his room, being locked...it was possible, wasn't it? Missing to the rest of the world, completely ignorant of the turmoil his absence had plunged them towards. Living out a covert life behind closed doors.


The young man knew all too well of such things.


With such brooding thoughts, he prepared to at last meet the Princess.


Kiefer's luggage was filled to the brim with many fineries, showing off every stage of the Nezzie Kingdom's proud fashions. Despite having to pack in such a hurry, with so little available to prepare from, Kiefer had still somehow managed to outdo himself in that steady, quiet way of his. There were Magical Accessories aplenty, so many that he could scarcely recall what each of them were for, or which would be best to catch the spirited eye of the Princess.


None of the trinkets in the trunk, that was for sure.


The young man turned towards a marble stand adorning the luxurious bedside. Inside was a small carved-out compartment into which he had placed a simple wooden box. Opening it up revealed a dark crimson cushion lined with rings, brooches, and even a misplaced earring or two, though Kiefer himself had no piercings or use for such things. The metal on some of the items was a bit rusty, sometimes dented, other times nicked. And yet this was the box he held close to his heart, a private smile unable to help itself from creeping over his face.


His treasures.


In a lifetime of darkness, his only access to a bright and beautiful world.


And one brooch, in particular, he carefully picked out to be his "opening number." The prelude to the magnificent show that would be his coming into himself this Cendrillion Ball. Coming into Kiefer Avescamp.


Standing before his bathing room's wide mirror he fussily pinned it on, making sure that the rubies and amethysts would hang straight so as to be seen in their full glory. Then the young man, closing his eyes in private glee, mouthed the secret words he had been made guardian of to keep all to himself. Like the silent messages of his book, as usual tucked closely to his chest, they were only for him. Little pieces of himself.


Opening his eyes to catch the last of the fleeting glitters of transformation, he could scarcely believe his own beauty, lit up by the borrowed powers of that shining world. The way his light hair so carefully framed his delicate face. The protrusion of crimson and maroon lace defining the tailored coat made out of fine velvet cloth. The only thing wrong about the picture was the eyes. He didn't like the way they glinted so dangerously in the flickering candlelight, marring the perfect image.


At least the glasses helped.


Finally satisfied, Kiefer made his way towards the Dining Hall, which he had earlier scoped out. The passages were lined with chatting nobles and arien servants rushing around, making sure that everything was in order. Surely the celebration, while joyous, would plague them with extra work over the coming weeks. Even now meticulously hung fresh garlands of flowers draped every stone like scented portraits, taking their flora from all corners of Roserasia. He contented himself with trying to name whichever blossoms his eyes caught upon as he passed.


It was good practice.


Entering the Dining Room was a glistening sight so magnificent that he almost had to shield his eyes. Such fineries were never seen in the gloomy rooms of Lundgren, even during their fanciest soirees. Watching the arie concentrating so intensely on their magic filled the young man with a sense of awe. How magnificent, for them to be able to create such miracles. Without those shining illusions, like the darkness of Lundgren, even Waltz Castle would be nothing but cold stone.


But, of course, Kiefer would have to realize that hidden inside those tantalizing images was a heart of rock, like a coal at the center of a flame.


Kiefer no longer trusted the arie, fearing them a threat to Nezzie's long-held stagnant peace.


For the sake of the plan, he would have to remember that.


Much dimmer in contrast was the King's opening speech. The young man noticed the strange absence of the Queen before his gaze was all but swallowed up by the figure on his Majesty's right. The Princess Evalyn, shimmering like a jewel, so tightly held his focus while the King spoke that the words scarcely held meaning to his ears. There was something so lovely about the way she bowed her head, keeping those emerald eyes of hers locked behind the loud red curls. As the young man stared, he silently urged her to look at him. Look upon the image of beauty that he, too, had become. Look upon no one else.


After all these long, long years. Finally he would be able to speak with her, again. Train together in the arts of dance. And never be separated thereafter.


However, the other attendants seemed to have other plans in mind.


As soon as the King finished the game of conversation began, opened by the precious gem words of the Princess Evalyn herself. Although only a few seats away from Kiefer patterned like a knight's awkward movements in a game of chess, she seemed so far...too far...


"Thank you, Your Highness."


He was surprised to find his voice so weak, sounding more like a whisper than an affirmation of love. That wasn't the man he saw in himself. Even the shy Kiefer wasn't a muttering fool. He took in a deep breath, preparing to correct himself when an unusual-looking white-haired girl with a searching gaze who sat down near him drew his attention to a pair of long, snowy ears. [ @DemonKitten ]


They belonged to a...a giant rabbit. An excessively tall arie, sitting there next to where the Prince of Lepumir should have been. And that placed him only a single seat away from Kiefer himself. [ @MLAQTS ]


It's him...it must be...


The young man had heard talk of such a one, but scarcely believed that they should come into contact so quickly, and so closely.


To make matters worse, it seemed as if he had also noticed Kiefer, and turned to him to speak, his questions soon echoed by the Viscount of Dorimun on the prince's left.


Behind thick glasses he took them both in with distaste. He hoped that even the fine, dark features of Dorimun's Viscount wouldn't distract the Princess from gazing at himself. She was, at the moment, preoccupied with who appeared to be the Marine Princess, whom Kiefer had little interest in beforehand, and even less upon seeing her in person. However, he noticed Princess Evalyn's eyes continued to flicker towards the empty seat next to her. [ @The Succubi Queen , @ParadoxalPaladin ]


Rameria...


If only he could be that chair, to be so caressed by that gaze.


If the Ramerian representative was so rude not even to show, he would gladly take his position at the table.


For now, however, he had appearances to keep up.


Wheels to set to turn.


Dinner having scarcely begun, and he already felt like a center of attention. It was a feeling he had yet to become accustomed to, and it made him feel strange. Naked. But there was a certain power in that nakedness.


Still, he would have assumed the Princess to be the night's main attraction.


I won't let her get off so easily.


While his words were directed towards the Viscount, the young man's eyes remained transfixed on the Princess, boring into her pointedly with every syllable, almost as if staring over the rims of his glasses.


"Greetings to you both. I am, of course, Prince Kiefer Arlie Avescamp, come all the way from Nezzie," a smile of satisfaction danced across his lips at the words, but he managed to keep it small, manageable, "and both of you are correct. Things are quite dire up North," he made a show of blushing, as if overcome by the tragedy of it all, "I was there...helping evacuate refugees across our border. Seeing the horror up close...separated families, chased by these monsters," at this his gaze flashed for a moment onto Rien's long white ears, "...of course, you would know something about that, wouldn't you, sir rabbit?"

 

[Unwavering Knight]

To each, a secret hiding place where he can find the haunting face.


As Lin asked her question, the knight turned from the gate guards to face her directly, looking down at her in momentary silence before replying with increased harshness "The Lady decreed, a knight must always be a knight. How could I face Her, dressed improperly?" Leaving no room for an answer, Helbrecht averted his gaze and began trudging towards the gate. He stopped once midway, looking forward as he uttered one more time "Lin the Witch, it is prudent to recall: a knight with moonlight in his hands has nothing there at all."


The entrance to the castle proper was even more lavishly decorated for the festivities than the common streets of the town, including the royal guards who stood with practiced discipline in vivid colors befitting the occasion. The wolf-girl, after a moment of halting and showing her invitation would be allowed entry with expected ease and disciplined manners. Helbrecht on the other hand was stopped as he tried to enter after Lin. With the knight presenting his written invitation to be inspected with a stone-faced expression, he was directed to the side for inspection.


A good opportunity for Lin to simply keep on going alone and avoid having her person be brought in association with the knight before the assembled nobles, if she was so inclined. Certainly, before the court, a restless presence like that of Helbrecht could easily prove to be more a liability than boon.


"Your weapons, sir. Please discard them." came a commanding voice.


What followed was a series of clanks as Helbrecht first unfastened the pack clinging to his back before the claws slowly and deliberately set to work on unlatching belts upon belts carrying sheathes of various sizes. Before the slowly-widening eyes of the guards and any other interested onlooker, the knight built a small pile of weaponry, of over two dozen throwing knives, a crossbow with , two swords, an axe and a mace. Then Helbrecht unwinded what appeared to be several feet of strangely spiked chain from his midsection, ending in a hook more befitting a simple butcher's tool than proper armament. Silently staring at the guards, he let the chain fall to the ground beside his other discarded weapons.


"What kind of knight would use something like this?" uttered an incredulous guardsman, pointing at the hooked chain, the throwing knives, the crossbow.


Helbrecht's helmeted head gave a slight tilt to the side as he replied with characteristic harshness "A knight must fight the unbeatable foe. A knight must tread where the brave dare not go."


After receiving another round of inspection to make sure he had nothing hidden away, Helbrecht was finally allowed inside the castle proper, now only with violin and fiddlestick affixed to his back. Had Lin decided to remained for the entire procedure, her presence would have been registered with a stare and then a slight, awkward wave of the knight's right claw.


Entering the banquet-hall, it was obvious that the feast was already being held, with various blue-blooded already locked in conversation.


"Hail." the knight's ugly voice thundred through the hall, turning many a head towards him for the audacity "Sir Helbrecht, knight of the Lady am I."


Silently, he remained standing at the entrance to the feast for just a bit longer, inspecting the faces of those looking at him. After several moments, he set himself in motion again, straight gait propelling him to a seat on the Queen's side of the table, his armored form sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the carefully dressed.


The festivities commenced.


@Lady Ravenshade (Addressed and mentioned)


@Anyone else (Free to reply)

 

[MLAQTS]

Rien Lapine

Evening | at the Banquet

"...of course, you would know something about that, wouldn't you, sir rabbit?" Kiefer's words rang in Rien's mind. They were ambiguous words, and could have been taken in a multitude of ways, but from the Nezzie Prince's tone and expression it was clear that the words were intended as a statement of grievance, or perhaps even an accusation. An accusation...


Of course... how could I have been so blind?





Rien began to regret his greeting as soon as Kiefer had turned towards him. Somehow, I had expected him to love me; but how could he ever love someone like me after all that's happened to his Kingdom since the start of the Rebellion? How foolish of me indeed; I suppose its from having lived a human's life, even if only for such a short while.


Indeed, in his time in the Euthalia Kingdom as the king's own royal dance instructor, Rien had grown accustomed to the adoration and reverence of those around him, despite his being an aria. The Euthalia Kingdom had not nearly been so affected as the Lepumir and Nezzie Kingdoms since the start of the Rebellion, so the aria there were treated at least respectfully, even if not as equals by the human inhabitants of Euthalia. Now here was one who had seen the terror of the conflict firsthand, one who despised the rebels and anyone at all related to them who had been the source of so much strife in his homeland.


Rien wanted to sympathize with Kiefer, to say to him "You must have lost so much; I'm sorry for all the tragedies which occurred"; but he knew that in his current state, his sympathies would never be accepted. Instead, Rien said to the Prince, "Indeed, your servant does know something of the tragedies occurring in Your Majesty's homeland, as well as his own. However, all which I know I have learned through my books, unlike Your Majesty, who has seen such atrocities through his very own eyes. Thus, please let not your anger against those who have harmed your loved ones be kindled against your servant before you. Truly, I have nothing to do with them, and am like you in wishing this war would soon cease. Indeed, has not the Lepumir Kingdom from whence your servant comes been similarly devastated by the conflict? Kiefer, I-"


Rien's sentence was interrupted by the opening of the doors to the banquet hall, followed closely by a harsh voice issuing from an armour-clad figure, which declared that the figure belonged to Sir Helbrecht, the Knight of the Lady. After the commotion had died down, Rien returned his attention to Kiefer. "Your Majesty, please grant that we at least converse civilly for the duration of the banquet" finished Rien, realizing that there was nothing better to say or do on his behalf. Kiefer Avescamp had surely been scarred in witnessing firsthand the gruesome atrocities of war; and Rien knew such scars could seldom be healed, being difficult even to conceal.


I am just the same as you are; he thought, issuing a slight sigh, but why would you ever believe me?

Addressed: @Pretzel Heart (Kiefer Avescamp)


Mentioned: @Unwavering Knight (Helbrecht)