MOVED

[Pioggia Dell Amore]

Ⓨ•ⓞ•ⓤ•ⓝ•ⓖ•ⓔ•ⓢ•ⓣxxxofxxxⒶ•ⓐ•ⓛ•ⓞ•ⓚ

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Some scream Ｓ ɩ ȵ ȵ ε ɾ
Some sing Ｓ ɑ ʋ ɩ σ ɾ
But They Don't Know
This Unknown Hero
is a Royal Ϻ ε м ɓ ε ɾ
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《G wendolyn xx A nnxx H etria 》

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The room with filled with a bitter smell of rancid fruit. The smell seemed to be absorbed into the molding stone walls and floors. To one, the smell was not strong enough to nausea, but to one with a sensitive nose to smells, the smell was overwhelming. Gwendolyn chewed the inner wall of her cheek as she tried to forget the smell of the room. She truly couldn't complain since it was all her friend could provide for her. Gwendolyn tugged the on the neck of her button-up shirt as she waited for her fellow members to take their seats. Dressed in baggy black trousers and a button white shirt with a simple red vest over it, Gwendolyn appeared to be a simple commoner. As an attempt to keep these people from knowing her true identity, Gwendolen wore a boyish wig and bandaged her breasts down. But these extreme measure were for a reason, the Sovereign Hand believed her to be a male.

The Sovereign Hand was the growing underground rebellion in Aalok. The group began forming in small numbers within three years of Zanyah's ruling. At the time, Gwendolyn had just done her best to keep out of eyesight from the High Constable. The Constable seemed always out to get her. She had not even thought of joining the rebellion, though she had heard rumors of one growing. Those ideas changed after the person closest to her had stopped writing to her. Assuming the worst, Gwendolyn grew angry with herself for not doing anything about Zaynah's reign over the people. Taking up a disguise as a common male, she quickly worked her way into the rebellion and up the ranks. It was because of her ideas and her resources that made her a good choice as a leader.

Gwendolyn banged her hands on the wooden table to silence the talking. She made small noises as she cleared her throat. "Shut up and listen to what I have to say, ya idiots" she stated in a gruff, slightly deep voice, "I applaud you on your works at the toll gates, but don't celebrate so easily, the High Constable won't take lightly to this. Now, I have some rumors of a royal member coming to Aalok. The member is from the bastards of Cionaodh. Now, all we gotta do is take this member captive and hold a little hostage situation. We're gonna demand to see the Emperor's son. If we get that far, we're gonna take the Emperor's son hostage and kill off the Cionaodh b*****d. Whatcha guys think of that?" She questioned. The men roared their apporval.

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... ██... Ｓ ɩ ȵ ȵ ε ɾ✥Ｓ ɑ ʋ ɩ σ ɾ✥Ɍ σ ｙ ɑ ʃ✥Ɍ ε ɓ ε ʃ...██...

[Chaotica Leonus]

***

"My revenge has been exacted, all tasks at hand have been completed."

Nero Leonin Kahae

Enigma. That could be the only word the people the resistance of Moriko could call Nero as he sat there taking on one of the nobles of Zaynah in a game of life or death that would determine that fate of one young man's life. A game that Nero prided himself on always being able to win. Chess. His masterful moves won the game in only ten turns, to the cheers of many people. Nero had once again put his life up as a bet to save a resistance fighter and it paid off greatly. Ensuring that the element of betrayal had been taken out of the game, Nero made sure that he planned everything so that it would all fall into his plan, even if one part failed, or messed up.

"A pleasure, once again Lord Gebretalr. I do hope we can "play" once again," Nero spoke, already calculating his opponents next moves. They always reacted violently, these Zaynah nobles, always underestimating him for his lanky body, thinking him physically weaker. They had no idea that training he had been through, the power he now held. The attack came swiftly, and Nero merely turned his gaze to the man, where his left eye glowed. "I, Nero Leonin Kahae, second prince of Cionaodh, command you to DIE!" Nero demanded, as the noble's blade stopped at his neck. The sword instantly removed itself from his neck and Nero smiled as the noble raised the blade to his own. "YES, YOUR HIGHNESS!" the man exclaimed, before killing himself in a blaze of bloody glory.

It had been another boring mission, to say the least. He didn't even get to use the chains, but Nero knew that by eliminating these enemies one by one and uniting the six kingdoms under one cause, they could drive out Zaynah from their lands. And just maybe...he could see her again. However, he might be able to find her soon enough. His next stop took him to Aalok, where he was a virtual ghost. The Zaynah government had become extremely annoyed with Nero for his actions, but Nero was far too slippery for them to catch. By staying away from Gwendolyn all this time, Nero had secured at least a little more of her safety. But the threat of them finding out was still great, so he would have to tread carefully in Aalok, for the fates of the kingdoms depended upon his success.

"Lord Nero!" a boy ran up from behind as he was just about to get onto a white stallion of the finest coat. He looked ragged, beaten, and was certainly the man's life he had won in a game of chess. "Thank you, sir! Thank you! For coming for my life...For coming for us all..." the boy said, and Nero could see the pain he had felt from the look of his eyes. "Be strong. For the one is as important as the many, at times. Your life could not simply be thrown away, so never forget that. Just stay true to the course and wish for that which we hold dear. Freedom. For Freedom, we must all stand. We need you for this freedom," Nero put elegantly, for which he got the response of a couple tears. It touched the boy, but Nero saw this still as a game of Chess. He only had no respect for the pawns, for without the pawns there was no army. Each pawn was important in itself, and now the King had to move again, to protect those pawns, and to protect freedom. He nodded to the young boy, before trotting off, heading for Aalok, and the rebellion in that Kingdom.

Gwendolyn

"Now all that's left is to find the love I miss."

From yours truly,

The Middle Prince of Cionaodh

***

[Sushi Alchemist]

—( • ☤ [ 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝕾𝖊𝖇𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖆𝖓 𝕳𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖆 ] ☤ • )—
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxyour crowned prince and one of the future sovereigns of Aalok
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand occasionally the rebel known as Markle

With his chair tilted back on two legs and his crossed ankles resting lazily on the table, Markle sat to the direct left of Gwendolyn with his arms crossed stiffly over his chest as he listened to the people in the room chatter and debate among themselves. He abstained from any discussion of his own....his job was to be eyes, not mouth. He knew most of the people in the room quite better than any of them knew him, but that was just basic necessity. Any one stranger let into these groups could be a threat, someone who was just there to leak information to an outside source that would kill to know the rebellion's going-ons. There'd been one or two of these spies before, but they had been easily caught and disposed of. The rebellion was very loyal to itself and suspicious people did not go unreported.

Though many of the people in the room were commoners (one or two of lesser nobility, no one of real standing in the court) and all of them came from different professions, be it soldier, blacksmith, merchant, vendor, or farmer, none were quite so harsh looking as Markle.

No one in the room knew who or what Markle had been in his life, except perhaps unlucky. His age was difficult to determine, as some of his dirty blond hair was gray but his face, mostly made up a scar tissue from severe burns told no tales of age or wrinkles. The scars covered most of his upper back and all of his left shoulder, traveling up the side of his neck and rippling across most of his face, leaving the lower right of it relatively untouched. It was horrendous to look at, so Markle generally wore a hat to keep people from staring too long.

But to make up for his ugliness, there was no one as good at espionage and intelligence as Markle, and this had landed him a pretty solid position as the rebellion's young leader's top informant. The young "man" relied on Markle for knowledge on everything, and if he didn't know it, he had the information in the week.

But the leader didn't always take his advice. In fact, a good amount of the advice he provided went unheeded. Sometimes it worked out fine, other times it turned out to be a nasty mistake, but Markle took comfort in the fact that he was always heard out, if not always heeded to. Like right now, as the young "man" banged on the table for attention and proceeded to lay out the plan that Markle had strongly been against.

Kidnapping, at this time and strength, was just about as rash as they could get. They didn't know how much Zaynah knew about them, and a provoking act like this could just prove that Zaynah had never considered them a threat in the first place, and have never acted on the knowledge that they had to destroy the rebellion. But the kidnapping would be more than enough to provoke them to act.

Zaynah wouldn't just eat this, like a dog forced to take medicine. If not handled very, very delicately, a kidnapping of the wrong person at the wrong time could and probably would result in all out warfare. The rebellion was growing, strong and steadily, but they weren't an army.

Besides, the rebellion had yet to build connections to other countries, perhaps find alliances that would help them fight. Nor had they come up with a plan B, if they DID provoke Zaynah into warfare, and the rebellion proved no match to Zaynah's forces. How did the rebellion plan to avoid being slaughtered in that scenario? Zaynah would not have mercy.

But Markle was not voicing this, not right now. That was just as bad of an idea, to challenge the young "man"'s leadership and rational. If things went badly, Markle would find himself removed from the rebellion, at least. If things went slightly better than that, he would find himself in command of a rebellion he really didn't need charge of. Ever.

He really wasn't think all of this, not at this moment anyway. Earlier, these had been his thoughts, but now as he watched the reckless young "man" be applauded by the members of the rebellion, all that he was thinking was "My sister is an idiotic fool," but this was a very common thought of his, and it was considered very fondly. Everyone knew that Markle had a soft spot for the young "man", who was really the youngest Princess, Gwendolyn. The two were rather close, which was pleasing to Markle, since he kept a close eye on her. He was a personal guard, of sorts too, but that was unofficial and rather self-appointed.

The same could not be said of Gwendolyn, the princess, and her older brother Sebastian. The amount of times Sebastian had said something that wasn't frosty or unapproachable to his half sister could be counted on one hand, probably. Gwendolyn had admitted, the prince had found out, to attendants that she was sure her brother hated her- and the feeling was mutual.

Sebastian had never tried to remedy that. Nor had he ever denied it.

He had "Markle" to do that. He, Sebastian, didn't need to have a personal relationship with Princess Gwendolyn. It would have never worked anyway, Sebastian was too work-absorbed and private. Markle could be the mentor, the advisor, the brother he could never be, and that was fine with Sebastian. Gwendolyn would never need to know that the brother she hated and the adviser she relied on were one and the same.

You're tragedy, a xq u e e nx for his majesty

☠________All this 𝖇𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖕𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖞, your kingdom is c۰r۰u۰m۰b۰l۰i۰n۰g !

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxMarkle

[Chaotica Leonus]

Eldest Prince of the Necrosis

Isabeau's Lover

Chaos incarnate

"No longer do I wish to live simply for the fight."

Zerous Shemehazi Neneharma

Five years had passed and yet he still looked the same. He didn't age, nor lost any of his given powers, strengths, and abilities during this time of peace. The once proud General of the Cordelian army, the bearer of Chaos who five years ago sealed away the Lych King with the help of his "siblings". Yes, the same man now stood on farm land, tending to the many crops that he grew. Zerous Shemehazi Neneharma, the Chaos General himself, had taken up a life of peace and content in the lands of Aeolus.

Things had happened so fast that it could make most people's heads spin. Zaynah had over half the kingdoms under their iron fist with Aeolus being the only "real, free country" left. It was all smoke and mirrors for the reigning powers to maintain a foothold in Aeolus, but Zero didn't really care about that. He wasn't a soldier, nor was he going to fight against Zaynah. He saw no point to throw himself into more bloodshed when he had bigger responsibilities. Half the reason Zaynah decided not to attack Aeolus was because they knew Zero was there, protecting what he cared for the most.

Yes, the mighty General Zero now had something to protect that was more precious to him then anything else. A family. Five years ago, he fell in love with a woman, a princess from Aeolus that was to be his betrothed. The eldest princess, Isabeau. He was half shocked to find that she had become pregnant with his children after Geheim attacked and decided that by her side was where he belonged. Inheriting one of the largest farms in Aeolus from his now deceased grandfather, Zero is wealthy enough to take care of his two twin boys and the adopted children Zero and Isabeau take care of. It is a happy life, a life of peace where Zero could raise his children like a real father, unlike any he had ever known. He made mistakes, but that was the trial of parenthood. As long as he had Isabeau by his side, he knew he could raise these children right.

Yet, despite everything that had happened, Zero and Isabeau had been denied a union of marriage. It angered Zero a little, but at the same time it was just a title. The days that Isabeau and Zero had shared already proved beyond a doubt a powerful bond was with them and no one denying them as a married couple could ever change that. Zero still could see the reasoning behind their decision. He was the eldest Cordelia Prince and she was the Eldest Aeolus Princess. If their marriage was official, Zero could take over the entire country if he wanted to, but Zero had no interest in becoming King at all. All he wanted, all he needed, was this peace.

"Enough dallying, Zero. Time to train," he said to himself, as he drew his sword and shield and started practicing with his blade. Zero was never one to simply let his skills rust over for one day they might be needed again.

"These miracles that life has given me have taught me that."

Destined Warrior

Son of Chaos

Loving Father

[Windmaster Vaelfor]

»×”Grey Wolf”
x»×”Light of the Elves”
xx»×”Keeper of the Sword of Legends, Naldien”

Lucius Zaan Hilyetz

ΘAalok. Such a small word, but it carried the hopes of the elves, humans, and every other race who desired freedom. Lucius, Prince of the Elves, had been ordered to visit this place. He was young by his peoples’ standards, but among the strongest of elves nonetheless. His blade, Naldien, a gift from his father, hung from the left side of his belt by a short enchanted chain. On his right was his quiver which contained twenty-five arrows, fletched with eagle feathers and his bow made from the wood of the strongest oak in his old forest. Since he had made it, he had imbued it with several spells to preserve it as well as to keep the stock from snapping when he drew back the string.

Word had reached the ears of his king of the growing rebellion. He returned to his people, now living in the mountains as their forest had been burned. The king, his uncle, was sending him as an ambassador to the rebellion. It was a charge he gladly accepted; he was as outraged as his people at the destruction of his home. During his brief stay, he was given Naldien, a blade that had been in his family for generations. He was able to restore the temper with magic instead of by hand. Any other time, he would have done it by hand, but he lacked the time. He had departed soon after, one week ago, and was now close to the rebellion’s reported base.

The fact that he was an elf made the journey a swift one. So much the better, for if he paused to take in the landscape, he would be compelled to march into Zanyah and kill every noble he could before he was eventually brought down. Much to Lucius’ chagrin, two retainers had been sent with him. They walked on either side of him and while they were meant to only act when Lucius was in danger, each served a unique purpose.

The elf to his right, Pelleas, a muscular elf and armed with two thin swords, acted as his “blade.” If Lucius were threatened, Pelleas would make sure that he was not harmed. He was Lucius’ oldest friend and a lover of music. The one to his left, Xavier, a tall, lanky elf, armed with a medium-length dagger, acted as a “ward” from any assaults from magic. In his childhood, Xavier always impressed his father with his proficiency with the arcane.

To see one elf was a rare sight. But to see three, walking in such a manner that showed they had a purpose and would not be deterred meant something big was about to happen. For this reason, they stayed away from towns as much as they could, both to increase traveling speed and prevent word of their presence from spreading all over the countryside.

Finally, Aalok was in sight, Lucius sat down on a rock and rested for a moment and ordered Pelleas and Xavier to do the same. So much was happening so quickly. If Zanyah were going to fall, this group would have to do it. One way or another the elves would have their revenge. If the rebellion did not succeed, the elves would destroy Zanyah, but succumb to extinction in payment for it. Ώ

[Nnamegne]

Location: Monk Temple | Mountain Pass | Cionaodh > Southwest Gate
Status: Normal

_______I _ c a n _ n e v e r _ f o r g i v e _ m y s e l f _ f o r _ s l a y i n g _ s o _ m a n y__

"Father Zeddius. Please forgive me. I have..." Joseph tried speaking, but Father Zeddius held up his hand for Joseph to stop.

"Joseph, my son, I know what you've done. There is no need to apologize." Father Zeddius said.

"So I guess there is no redemption for me, Father?" Joseph asked. Five years ago, Joseph had run away from the killings and from a woman. He ran into the mountains until he nearly died. At that moment, a group of monks found him and took him in.

Father Zeddius let a warm smile appear on his aged face. "No, Joseph... I meant that the Maker has already forgiven you for your sins." Father patted Joseph on the shoulder. "The mere fact that your curse is gone is proof enough."

Joseph let out a sigh. He didn't feel much different since waking up and discovering that his curse was gone. He thought that he would feel... more whole. But he oddly felt a hole in himself. The curse had been with him his entire life. "Father... I must confess. I... I feel guilty."

"For the people you've killed?" Father Zeddius inquired.

Joseph shook his head. "No... well yes... greatly I do feel guilt for killing them... But-"

"They've passed onto the Great Skies, Joseph." Father Zeddius interrupted, "You should try to let go of this. You're sorry for killing them, but they're in a happier place now."

Joseph shook his head once more. "No, Father. I feel guilt mainly because before I left civilization behind... I left a.... loved person...."

"If you wish to go back Joseph, you can."

"But what about-"

"Joseph, we can take care of ourselves." Father Zeddius interrupted for the umpteenth time. "Now, if you excuse me Joseph, I believe you have things to take care of as do I."
Father bowed to Joseph and Joseph bowed in return.

"Thank you, Father."

"Maker's blessing on you, son."

--Later--

After having packed everything in his pack and made sure his sword was attached properly to his hip, Joseph headed off out of the small temple. No monks saw him off. They believed it was bad luck to do so.

--Days Later--

Joseph walked down the country road lead to Cionaodh. Although, being a remote part of the world for five years, he thought it was still called Conlaodh. After an hour more of walking, Joseph finally reached the Southwest gate that led into the main city which held the castle in where he could possibly find... her. Approaching the gate, the guardsmen stopped him.

"Halt, traveler!" one of the guards said in a gruff and very deep voice. "No weapons allowed within the city." he said pointing to Joseph's sword. "Hand it over your weapon and your pack."

Joseph was a bit unsure. He hadn't known Conlaodh to of had restrictions like this. He had been here once before and that was right before the night he ran away. "I'm sir, but I cannot let this sword go out of m-"

"If you do not hand over your possessions right now, we will have to assume you are a traitor to the Zaynahian Empire." the guard said stepping closer to Joseph, the other guard laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. They both glared at Joseph daring him to make a move.

______________I _ d o n ' t _ d e s e r v e _ h e r _ l o v e ____

"There are things in this world,
That I just don't understand,
Like Love, War, and Gravity,
But one thing is for sure,
You are worth waiting for..."

[Chaotica Leonus]

MY SINS UNCOUNTABLE

MY CRIMES UNFORGIVABLE

BUT I SHALL CONTINUE ON

Kyo Svensil

He looked nothing like the man he walked next to. Their hair, their eyes, their features were all different from one another. Even their clothes were different in every way. They were an odd pair, for even their race was different. One was dark-haired man who wore dark clothing, and though he looked in his twenties, he was clearly now an elf and no one could tell what an elf's true age was by looks alone. He carried no smile on his face, yet his face wasn't angry either and he stood at a tall height of sic foot three inches. His eyes held the hardest burden, his eyes held a pain that no one could relate to. The other was but a boy of eleven, with silver gray hair and eyes of a greenish-yellow that seemed to stand out among crowds. He always carried a smile, a happy child, far from the man he was with.

This man was as notorious as they came, public enemy number one on any kingdom's list of criminals. This was a man who had suffered greatly in his life and for his ideals. This was the legendary Blightspeaker who shocked the world by attacking the royal betrothal setting five years ago. The man who weakened every kingdom with his actions, the man who lost just about everything dear to life. Kyo Svensil, the leader of the Geheim prisoners, was alive! It would be a wonderous shocker to the entire world if they knew his life had not been destroyed five years ago. However, the boy with him was Jericho Solidulicus, the last survivng child of Graham and Victoria Solidulicus. In his own right, he was one of the few reasons Kyo could live on, he was Kyo's light.

As they walked, traveled from place to place, Kyo was always prepared to give Jericho a life away from fighting. He treated him like a son he never had, fighting where Jericho could not, and teaching Jericho the ways of the world. Jericho was a fine tempered young lad, who had an incredible kindness to him. It was Kyo who would make sure that kindness never faded. Their destination was simple on this day. Cionaodh, the country that was consider the most cowardly of Kingdoms now. Kyo couldn't agree more with people's thoughts on the kingdom. It didn't fight, it merely gave up and the woman who spared him was married off to a Zaynah b*****d, a kingdom full of tyrants who bled the people. It was even worse than what the Kingdoms before were doing, and Kyo's eyes had set on this stage.

It was time for Kyo's glorious return, or at least to start making up for his sins. Indeed, he felt that he hadn't done much at all to help the situation so far. He had helped the people as best as he could, he flaunted the wealth of the guilds who were now in complete disarray and destruction to help the people as best he could and raise Jericho. It wasn't enough though and with the rebellion rising, Kyo felt himself be dragged back into the conflict, even though it wasn't his own. "We are approaching the southwest gate, Kyo. How will you get passed the guards?" Jericho asked with a patient, happy smile on his face.

Kyo could only smile when he looked over, patting Jericho on the shoulder. It was obvious what Kyo would do, as Jericho had seen it a thousand times before. Still, it always seemed to be something Jericho had to ask. "The same thing I do every time, Jericho. Sneak attack," Kyo replied, as he turned his head to the gate. It was magnificent indeed, as Cionaodh made sure that it was indeed a grand country with a grand city, or at least it was. Then Kyo saw him, a man talking to the guards and the guards getting upset. He only saw the back of his head, but as he got closer, he could hear his voice. That voice that was surely the same demon he had met before. Joseph Ander. For a second, Kyo paused, before he winked to Jericho and disappeared with a flash, appearing behind the guards.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen. I believe that it would be best not to upset this man," Kyo said as the guards turned to face him. A swift chop knocked both guards completely out as Kyo beckoned Jericho forward with his hand. Jericho ran past Joseph and put one hand each on the guard's heads, before a bright light shined forth from his hands. "Joseph Ander. We meet again," Kyo spoke, before watching Jericho get up. "Don't worry, they aren't dead. Their memories have been erased of your existence and mine, so don't worry. Now, let us hurry inside," Kyo said without hesitating to turn around and lead the way, followed closely by Jericho.

The BLIGHTSPEAKER STILL LIVES ON

[Chaotica Leonus]

***

"My revenge has been exacted, all tasks at hand have been completed."

Nero Leonin Kahae

The ride appeared to go smoothly for Nero as he made his way from Moriko to Aalok. It was easy enough to pass the guards with his powers at hand but it did leave some of the more exciting horse chases out of his "adventurous" journey. Not that it bothered Nero at all. He still wasn't a very physical person at all, though he had started to maintain a certain level of fitness to keep himself in shape. He wouldn't even be as strong as he was now if it weren't for Chaos. Yes, the god that controlled the Chaos of the world, the father to Zero, a man who could have been the greatest General in existence if he continued on.

His thoughts dove back into the past as he entered the unprotected zones of land held by Zaynah. Bandits and such ran through these areas, but also rebel members of Moriko, and even from other countries. These lands were far too vast for one empire to simply control on its own, and so they left these small spots abandoned so that they could defend the cities as necessary. It was a tactical move that proved that even though the Zaynah government was greedy, it knew how to protect itself and it's valuable property. These lands were of little concern to Zaynah, but they could also be the building ground for a great army.

Thoughts lingered on the last time Nero last wrote Gwendolyn. It had been four years, two months, and thirteen days and Nero felt sick of it. He wanted to speak to her, and as much as he held out hope that she still loved him, Nero was a realistic person. Gwendolyn was a girl that probably wouldn't wait for any deadbeat who didn't answer her back after a while. Still, Nero had to see her at least one more time. Even if it was going to be the last time. His eyes held the horizon of Aalok as he started his approach. He had never been so nervous in his life, as his heart beat much faster than any heart really should. But it wasn't about the negotiations Nero was about to undertake. It was about Gwendolyn and would always be about her.

"How did things end up this way,...Gwendolyn?" Nero asked himself, knowing that Gwendolyn wasn't around to answer. It pained him so that his beautiful bride wasn't really to be and that had also been a first for Nero. He never truly had experienced love until Gwendolyn had entered his life and he somehow couldn't escape her love. That's why he had to take care of all tasks at hand, so that he would make a difference in Gwendolyn's world again. That's what he hoped at least, what he needed.

"Now all that's left is to find the love I miss."

From yours truly,

The Middle Prince of Cionaodh

***

[Windmaster Vaelfor]

»×”Grey Wolf”
x»×”Light of the Elves”
xx»×”Keeper of the Sword of Legends, Naldien”

Lucius Zaan Hilyetz

ΘLucius and his retainers were perched atop the city walls. For some reason, no guards patrolled the battlements. A light breeze made his wolf fur cloak billow behind him. He closed his eyes and took in the fresh air, savoring every moment which he could be alone with nature as if it were is last. And it very well could be. Nothing was safe until Zanyah fell.

The wind shifted and brought Lucius out of his thoughts. Grasping the onyx pommel of Naldien, he turned to face his retainers. “Pelleas, Xavier, I no longer have need of your services. Tell my uncle that I ordered that you two be given three weeks’ leave.” The two elves nodded and disappeared into the night.

When they were gone, he turned to face the city, a fierce look in his eyes. His current objective was to find the leader and offer his race’s support. His was a race of ancient elves, the elves to did not forsake the forest and live elsewhere. They were inherently tied to the world and the world to them. If one were destroyed, the other would be also. His personal motivation was not only revenge, but to save everything and everyone. A hard burden to bear, but bear it he did.

He looked down at the ground below and saw there were no guards. He leapt from his perch and bounded silently along the rooftops. He ran vertically up a tower, keeping his feet planted to the wall with a spell, and gained a better view. He sat down on the top and waited for something to happen.
Ώ

[A Living Illusion]

Eric Beleren, Lord of Illusion

Youngest Prince of Aeolus, gone from his land...

Eric stared out across the flat plane that made up the unclaimed lands to the south. It dipped and rose occasionally but for the most part lay flat. The scorching southern sun blazed in the distant west, dropping toward the horizon. This stoic figure faced silently northward. That was what he had left behind. It was where danger lay. And he was plunging head first into the belly of the beast...
Beside this breathing statue stood a woman of stunning beauty. Her intelligent emerald eyes looked back and forth between the endless vista and Eric. "I'm going to go. You know that." he said softly.
"Yes...I know... But I still think it's a bad idea," came her slow response.
"You dont have to go with me"
"As if you would survive ten minutes without me around" she said with a playful chuckle. Eric turned his own gaze on her but there was little mirth to be found there any longer. The small smile that stretched his lips never met his eyes and gave him a look of great sadness rather than amusement.
"You're right, of course" he acceeded. It was true of course. Though he felt he'd make it more than ten minutes. Maybe a day or so. "But i still wouldnt force you into it."
The smile then faded from her lips slowly. Seeing him like this...the once joyful boy who made her hidden somewhere deep behind that solemn mask...it weighed heavily on her heart. "I know..." she said softly. She trusted Eric with her existence, since no one could technically figure out whether or not she was truly alive. She was a being like none had seen before. Once an illusory pet to the young prince she had become much much more. His efforts to make her real had given her the spark of consciousness, and his gift had evolved immensely over the years since her creation.
"We must tell them you know. They have a right to know" she said after a few moments' silence.
"Yes...I know that Cypher" he said with a heavy sigh. He doubted his idea would be received well. The rebels liked to keep closely connected to prevent leaks, and anyone who knew who the leaders REALLY were would be watched more closely than others. That is...if they could track such a person. Needless to say they would have much to say about his idea. He was in fact curious how many threats and attempts to hurt him he would have to endure.
"Well...wanna get on with it?" Cypher asked, becoming slightly impatient. She never liked being out in the open unless she was in her dragon form.
Eric nodded. "Might as well" he said, already unhappy with the necessity. Cypher smiled happily, a shimmering light encompassing her body for an instant as she took on her dragon form. What stood above him was not the same creature whom others had seen at the castle. She was much larger now, seven feet high at the shoulders. She had grown a great deal in the intervening years, though her change in size was but one minor change. The large glittering gold creature encircled Eric protectively as he sat down and lay against her gently rising and falling side. "My life is in your hands" he said softly as he closed his eyes. And then he was elsewhere. He never saw the tender smile the lizard above directed at him. If she had her way, he never would...

- - -

Gwendolyn never knew she had another, secret viewer. Eric kept himself hidden as he watched the meeting and her foolhardy plan unfold. Eric was using a modified, and dangerous, type of Sending. While the normal spell allowed a magic user to send an avatar of him/herself to a remote location, the distance depending on the strength of the user, the person was still half aware of their surroundings. If trouble arose they could break off the spell and return to their body instantly. It took a great deal of concentration to do for any length of time, requiring the caster to split their attention, but it was relatively simple and safe. What Eric was doing could actually be called much more sinister. His body was entirely vulnerable while he used his spell, for his entire soul went into it. Literally. The spell sent his soul out along the link rather than just an image, which gave him considerably more power while it made him utterly vulnerable. While a normal Sending only allowed the user to see, hear, and speak, Eric's method allowed him to cast spells while away from his body. Thus he was able to remain hidden and effect events considerably across vast distances.
Eric waited patiently as the meeting wound down and its attendants left. When he was alone with just Gwendolyn Eric appeared as a shadow-cloaked figure in the back left corner. It was his preferred form, giving nothing away about what he was really thinking or feeling. It also hid who he really was from any who wanted to know. Not that Gwendolyn didnt know anyway, but one never knew when interruptions would present themselves. "Pardon my plain speaking, M'Lady, but your plan is brash and foolhardy. You will only succeed in getting yourself and your compatriots killed, along with any hope of freedom your people have. Correct me if i'm wrong but i do not think that is something you desire." His tone held amusement as much as admonishment and the figure shook lightly with laughter. He fell silent and awaited her reply.

...walking in the shadow, blood on his hand

[Pioggia Dell Amore]

Ⓨ•ⓞ•ⓤ•ⓝ•ⓖ•ⓔ•ⓢ•ⓣxxxofxxxⒶ•ⓐ•ⓛ•ⓞ•ⓚ

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Some scream Ｓ ɩ ȵ ȵ ε ɾ
Some sing Ｓ ɑ ʋ ɩ σ ɾ
But They Don't Know
This Unknown Hero
is a Royal Ϻ ε м ɓ ε ɾ
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《G wendolyn xx A nnxx H etria 》

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" You’re thinking I'm stupid for saying that, but I just wanted to put excitement in their bones," She said to Markle. They were alone now since the meeting was over. This was pleasing to Gwendolyn since the room had become stuffy for her. " they’ve been complain about not havin' enough action. I'm just puttin' a show on for them " She finished, plopping down on one of the wooden carved chairs. The tight binding on her chest made it difficult for her to breathe. She scalp itched from the wig and she wanted to remove it so bad, but Markle was there. He was always around her, looking over her like a protector. She enjoyed the company since he reminded her of Chaucer. But the company would have to be put on hold, since she felt another person’s presence around her. He would have to follow her instead.

Leaning her head back, she pulled on the collar of her shirt again. Her mind was in thought as she tried to figure out why Nero was coming to Aalok. The rumors said he was working with the rebellion in Moriko. If this was true, she could have him help her unite these two rebellion forces. But the ever presence of her unwanted guest had Gwendolyn growling under her breath. She dragged herself out of the chair to stand. “ Markle, you may know much about Nero, but I do not want you or these men to be the ones who capture him. Nero has a gift that could cause you to kill yourself or those around you " She stated; her tone still deep and gruff.

She walked to the iron door and pulled it open. The sounds of the metal dragging across stone echoed in the halls of their underground compound. “ I’ll take my leave first. You leave this place in ten minutes ” She said, pulling the door closed.
The halls temperature was highly different from that of the stuffy room. Wind tunneled down the hall from the door at the top of the stairs and small openings along the walls. Gwendolyn softly moved along the stone flooring as she glanced behind her occasionally. Taking the left path, she followed it to the end. Following up the spiral of stairs, Gwendolyn pressed on the wall. The passage leads her into the priest’s office. The room was empty except for a small fire dying in the fireplace. The small crackles and pops were the only sound in the room. Gwendolyn pulled a key from her pocket to unlock the bottom left draw at the desk. In it laid a piece to her royal wear; black slippers. In the closet was her dress; a simple soft yellow gown. Knowing that the presence had followed her, Gwendolyn sighed and looked over in the direction the presence was.

“ Pardon my plain speaking, M’Lady, but your plan is brash and foolhardy. You will only succeed in getting yourself and your compatriots killed, along with any hope of freedom your people have. Correct me if I’m wrong but I do not think that is something you desire ” the voice stated. Gwendolyn shook her head and smiled at the family voice. “ Eric, I did not think you to be such a pervert. Watching a girl change is of high offense ” She laughed while her fingers swiftly unbuttoned her blouse. Pulling it off, she tossed the clothing on the ground. She was careful with the binding around her chest, since she did not want to have to buy anymore of this. The people would get suspicious of why she was continually buying binding. Gwendolyn did not care if Eric was looking or not. She did not have the luxury of being prudish when she needed to be changed quickly.

A breath of fresh hair escaped her lugs as she felt the release of tightness on her chest. Gwendolyn changing into her royal attire, thus was completed was her transformation from common to royal. Gwendolyn was no longer the rebel leader called Jonathan by his companions, nor was she called the Sunbeam Adder by the people of Aalok. “ If you did not hear what I said to Markle, then you are more stupid then I thought. The men get restless so I conjure some idea that is ridiculous. Give it a few days, and the men will think it stupid for me to do that. The guys don’t want to get too big since they don’t want to lose their jobs. Well, most of them don’t, but there are a few who would be willing to assist me with that ” She said, “ what brings you to see me Eric? I’m assuming you have news for me. ”

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... ██... Ｓ ɩ ȵ ȵ ε ɾ✥Ｓ ɑ ʋ ɩ σ ɾ✥Ɍ σ ｙ ɑ ʃ✥Ɍ ε ɓ ε ʃ...██...

[Windmaster Vaelfor]

»×”Grey Wolf”
x»×”Light of the Elves”
xx»×”Keeper of the Sword of Legends, Naldien”

Lucius Zaan Hilyetz

ΘFrom his perch, Lucius was aware of everything. He could hear portions of the late-night conversations that the wind brought to his ears. His eyes, sharper than those of a bird of prey, saw all. He was on the alert to anyone with strong magical abilities.

He closed his eyes, branching out with his mind to find such individuals. All he saw were orbs of blue light floating in the darkness behind his eyelids. His vision was completely obscured by two blazing orbs. He opened his eyes and sighed. “Pelleas, Xavier. I told you to return. If you’re going to tail me, at least control yourselves.”

The two elves appeared behind him. Pelleas chuckled and said, “You can’t make us leave. We have as much of a stake in this as you.” Xavier nodded in agreement. Lucius closed his eyes and saw that their orbs had all but disappeared. There was one orb larger than the rest. It was conscious and close to the person he wanted to meet.

He opened his eyes and stood, turning to face his two retainers. “Fine, do what you will. I’ve found something interesting and I wish to check it out. I want to see if they can sense us. Keep yourselves under control for now.” He turned away, and leapt from the tower, followed by his retainers.

After a bit of maneuvering around the guards, he found himself outside of the door where the leader of the rebellion and the man, if that was truly what the person was; discerning gender wasn’t one of his specialties when he was scanning for strong people. “Xavier, mist.” His voice was barely audible, but Xavier got the message. The elf muttered a quick spell and distorted the air around then, rendering them invisible. It wasn’t true invisibility; if one looked carefully enough, they could see the air rippling.

He closed his eyes and said, “Release.” There were no individual orbs or darkness; his sight was completely obscured by the collective energy of his retainers. He opened his eyes and silently stepped away from the door, waiting to see if they’d be noticed.
Ώ

[Chaotica Leonus]

***

"My revenge has been exacted, all tasks at hand have been completed."

Nero Leonin Kahae

What was it about Aalok that Nero found distasteful? It was that they still tried to hold religious airs in a time when money was their religion. It was a sickening country to the young Cionaodh prince, who hated his own country for giving up so easily. A foolish mistake his father had paid for with his life. Nero had argued that victory had been possible but his father brought up old resentments in his heart, not even listening to a word he spoke. It was only Taliya who ever had any faith in what he spoke of. In the time of five years, Nero had grown very fond of Taliya, more than any other sibling.

Taliya had always been there for Nero, even when Nero tried to shun her away. What Nero had been surprised about is how everything happened five years ago. How Taliya had defeated the mightest of men, Kyo Svensil with words and then spared his life. Nero could tell she did not love her husband, a man who only upheld his father's laws and ideals. Nero hated him, but not because he was from Zaynah, but the fact that he couldn't make Taliya happy. Nero vowed to help her by raising an army to defeat Zaynah once and for all.

His thoughts beckoned forth as he came to focus as he approached the gates of Aalok. Guards of Zaynah stood there, but there were very few who knew what Nero really looked like outside of Cionaodh. His horse was stopped and one of the guards walked up to Nero, eying him wearily. "Papers,"the guard spoke with a commanding voice. Nero only looked straightforward, with a royal air about him as he handed the man forged papers. The guard looked quickly at the papers, before looking back at Nero. "Lord Valanchiea of Moriko. What is your business here, Lord Valanchiea?" the guard asked suspciously.

Nero turned his head sharply, with an arrogant whisp and looked the man with deadly eyes. He was about to put on a grand performance indeed. "You talk to me like some commoner you half-baked guard! What business is of yours what I come to Aalok for? I should have you put on a roast and baked alive for your insolence!" Nero exclaimed, which he saw in the guard's eyes a moment of actual hesitation. Nero knew he had him now and continued on. "I will speak to your commander personally about this insubordination and have your head on a platter if you do not let me through RIGHT NOW!" Nero bellowed, making the man fall back. It worked.

The guard, sensing royal airs let Nero through right away, the other guards cowering at his cold gaze. He had done it and with relative ease. Establishing himself as a Lord that he had killed not two days before worked out really well. The man was a sympathizer of Zaynah, one who hadn't been seen for a couple of years. He was the perfect excuse to get into the country, and now that he was, Nero rode casually to the city. "All to easy," Nero said to himself with a smirk before going off towards where the city was and the rebellion.

"Now all that's left is to find the love I miss."

From yours truly,

The Middle Prince of Cionaodh

***

[A Living Illusion]

Eric Beleren, Lord of Illusion

Youngest Prince of Aeolus, gone from his land...

Eric grinned slightly. It was amazing how much some people had changed. When he had met Gwendolyn she had been quiet, reserved, and a bit formal. Or that was his perception of her anyway. Now...she almost made a better man than princess. "Oh but Gwen, you know you were always the most radiant woman at that little...debacle" he said flirtatiously. Many things had changed...but some never would!
Eric cast an illusion around her with a flick of his writs. It was simple enough that it barely required thought, let alone an incantation. To him it looked like a simple folding divider like those often used to change behind, but to her it would appear entirely transparent. Eric wondered in amusement whether she would know if he couldnt see her. Or if she would care if he could.
"No, i left with the first few. I am not the spy, after all" he said with a smirk. "I never took you for a fool but one can never tell these days." Eric rose and walked around a bit. "I think you underestimate the level of desperation though. The people are...restless as you say. Restless men do brazen things. And die for it." He turned back toward her. "Whatever you say i think some will attempt the abduction either way. But it is your rebellion. I am but a servant" Eric made a small, almost mocking bow before pushing on.
"But you are right. That is not why i am here." Eric paused for a few moments before going on. "I have searched these lands far and wide since i left Aeolus and forswore my birthright. I have learned much...but not enough. Knowledge is hard to come by in times of conflict and the Zaynah oppressors are quite good at hunting down those who hold useful secrets. Fifty two people...all scholars, mages, or teachers...have been discreetly executed. Those are just the ones i know about. I suspect the number to be closer to ten times that. There isnt anything left here of use" Eric paused again to take a deep breath before releasing what he had been building up to. "So i intend to go north, into the heart of Zaynah. I will pose as one of them and hunt out what arcane secrets i can."
He waited... He expected an outburst from her, ranging from a flat order to do no such thing to potentially having objects thrown at him. Neither would bother him, or stop him, of course but that didnt stop some people from trying anyway.
Eric's head suddenly swung toward the hallway. Eric was more aware of arcane energy as a free floating soul and habitually tracked any strong source in his vicinity. There were always sources, especially since the invaders had brought their own mages, and he rarely gave most of them more than a passing thought. But there were three separate sources approaching, each extremely strong. Back on the plane his heart began to beat faster. "We are not alone" he whispered as they approached and then entered. He noted the telltale shimmer in the air that signaled a Concealment spell. It was extremely easy to miss if you werent looking for it. Eric placed small wards about himself and Gwendolyn. They wouldnt completely stop any strong attacks but they would blunt them and deflect weaker ones. Not that he thought that the wards would do much good. If the others proved hostile he wouldnt be able to protect Gwendolyn. The wards WOULD give him time to get back to his body though.
"Show yourselves. If you're friends you wont be harmed. If you are foes...pray to whatever gods you believe in that you can run faster than lightning" He knew his threat was empty, and they probably did too, but it wouldnt do to appear weak and fearful. Especially if they were potential allies. Eric did not know of anyone else in the rebellion with that much strength

...walking in the shadow, blood on his hand

[Windmaster Vaelfor]

»×”Grey Wolf”
x»×”Light of the Elves”
xx»×”Keeper of the Sword of Legends, Naldien”

Lucius Zaan Hilyetz

ΘThe conversation was rather boring since he didn’t know what was going on. He yawned and Xavier nailed him in the ribs. Lucius’ shoulders convulsed with silent laughter and, eventually, so did the others’. Pelleas moved silently to a wall and leaned against it and Xavier shot him a nasty glare. They were making it difficult to maintain the spell.

In his mind, he was back in the old forest, high in the trees. He watched the animals milling about fondly. He took refuge in his memories as he often did. If not for them, he would go completely insane. He was brought back to reality when someone uttered a threat. He motioned for Xavier to end the spell, revealing the three of them to the illusionist and the noble.

He was almost certain that the illusionist could not truly harm them, but it was a smart move. Lucius was impressed. He looked over the two before stepping away from the wall and drawing his sword. He noted how it glimmered in the light and muttered a long incantation before sheathing it. The weaker mages were now asleep. The drain on his power wasn’t large, but he found it a bit difficult to stand.

“I apologize for our intrusion and if I worried you when I drew my sword. Mages have a particularly nasty habit of listening to conversations they shouldn’t. They were put to sleep. I needed to cast a spell for that and the only catalyst I have is my sword.” He felt his energy reserves being replenished so he motioned at Xavier to stop. The mage did as he was commanded. “My name is Lucius. I come as an emissary from the Elf King. The elves behind me are Pelleas and Xavier.” His retainers raised a hand when he said their names, but looked as if they were oblivious to what was happening.

He allowed the information to sink in. As he did, he walked over to the fireplace and muttered another spell. The flames roared to life, flew from the hearth, and floated in his hand. “A strange thing, fire. On one hand it gives life. On the other, it takes it away…” Lucius clenched his fist and put it out. He was well known for his rambling and strange mannerisms. To accentuate this point, Pelleas and Xavier began to smile.
Ώ