09-18-2017, 06:35 PM
(Drydara 28th, 925. Arcanan, Lagalla. 22 years ago. 11:30 AM.)
The Gandr Einvígi.
Every generation of Haventrees bore twin boys. One of these boys would go on to become the Emperor of Lagalla. To decide this, the ancient rite of the Gandr Einvígi is held on the eve of the boys’ eighteenth birthdays. The boys would meet on the field of battle and test their skills against one another. One would succeed, one would fail. Often times, the loser would be executed, to prevent future attempts to the Tome. Sometimes, the future emperor would take pity on his sibling. In 529, Emperor Lewin Haventree spared his brother, Hugh Haventree, who later served on the Council of Magistrates. In 783, Emperor Inigo Haventree spared his brother, Rhys, who later joined the priesthood and served as High Bishop until his death. In 894, Emperor Rex Haventree spared his brother, Luca. Luca later assassinated his brother in the night. While it was hardly the first assassination attempt from a brother who was spared, it was the first that succeeded. No Haventree had spared his brother again in the next one-hundred years of Haventrees.
This did no favors for Camellia Risewell’s current emotional state. On her own eighth birthday, she was told that she would be the next Empress of Lagalla. For the next eight years, she has the privilege of getting to know both of the Haventree twins. They were two years her elder. Both handsome, with deep violet hair. But the similarities stopped there.
Theo was a prodigy, while Gavin was simply talented. His hair was long and straight, kept behind his back in tight ponytail, while Gavin's was kept short and clean, though it always ended up a little bit messy. He was a great leader, and incredibly charismatic, but twice as proud, while Gavin was timid and kind, but not very outspoken.
Theo would be a great Emperor, but Camellia could not help but be afraid of him. Once, while the two were spending time on the vistas, she witnessed him strike an Aspirant servant who crossed his path.
I fear he would have killed the poor boy had I not been there…
She leaned back in her chair, staring at the mirror in front of her. She wore a brilliant viridian dress. She hadn’t enjoyed the color on herself for the longest time, but after the better part of a decade, one must accept such simple things as an inevitability. Perhaps she could invest in some darker shades once she was crowned. Surely no one would fault an Empress for that?
“Can you look down for me, Your Majesty?”
Camellia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Oh, please, Rosa. Do not start that with me now. Please. I can already hardly believe I am going to be a Haventree in a month, but that’s absolutely no excuse for you. Enough folk shall be calling me by this title or that soon enough. I would rather one of my oldest friends not start too.”
Rosalyn laughed quietly, taking a lock of Camellia’s beautiful azure hair into her hands. With her other hand, she took an elegant pair of shears, working it into a masterpiece. “Is that a royal decree, Camellia? Or a personal request?”
“Can it be both?” The two shared a quiet laugh. Camellia looked at her lady-in-waiting in the mirror.
Rosalyn was everything a Haventree should want in a servant. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of white, made even more beautiful by her amber eyes and tan skin. While Camellia was just now growing into the woman she would become, Rosalyn was very much already there. She was kind, considerate, talented, impossibly patient. But Theo wouldn’t see that. He would only see another Ungifted. She feared for her companion’s safety should he win.
“You seem troubled,” Rosa asked quietly.
“Is it that obvious?” Camellia said. “I do not want… I wish there was another way.”
“You don’t want Gavin to die,” Rosalyn said.
Camellia’s fingers dig into the corner of the chair. “It is not fair. There has to be another way than this. I know it is tradition, but it is not a tradition I enjoy. Gavin has no desire to fight his own kin, and yet he’s being forced to. Can you imagine having to face your own brother to the death? Or worse, can you imagine having to watch your children kill each other? ‘Tis barbaric.”
“Perhaps you won’t need to,” Rosa said. “You are going to be Empress. Perhaps you can try and… perhaps, cancel the Gandr?”
“But that does not help me now, Rosa. I… Theo…”
“He did promise to spare him,” Rosa said. “He swore to you that he would not kill his brother, did he not?”
“And do you truly believe him? The people will call for blood. When Theo wins-"
"If Theo wins," Rosa corrected.
"Either way. He will not be able to turn them down.”
Rosa fell silent for a moment. The silent snip of scissors was deafening in the preparation room that they were using.
“But you are right. I will. I swear, so long as I live, I will not watch my own children slaughter each other. Mark my words, Rosa.”
“Consider them marked, Camellia,” she responded with a smile. She pulled back Camellia’s hair and fluffs it out, the powder blue locks landing across her shoulders with elegance. “Do you like it?”
Camellia smiles. “I love it," she said, washing her trepidation down the drain for a moment. "Truly, Rosa, you are a woman of infinite skill. I never asked when you learned this one.”
Rosalyn removed the silk cape from across her lady’s chest, giving it a swift flick to scatter the blue hair to the ground. Setting the shears to the nearby table, she grabs a broom to collect the discarded hair from the ground. “Not a particularly interesting story, I'm afraid. Like most of my menial skills, when I was very young, before I served the Crestworth family, I was in charge of caring for my younger sister,” Rosa explained as she swept, “After… everything, I did much the same work for the Crestworth family. Lord and Lady Crestworth were especially fond of simple haircuts, but none allowed me to get so creative as-”
A knock on the door interrupted the girls. Rosalyn looked over at her lady, silently inquiring if she would like for her to answer the door. Camellia shook her head. “Coming,” she said as she hopped up from the chair, walking carefully as to not wrinkle her dress. Considering it was midwinter, the sleeves were long. Even without the heavy cloak that accompanied it for outdoor travel, she could feel the chill of the evening creeping into the thick stone chambers. Absentmindedly running a hand through her now-thinned hair, she moved to the door and opened it. When the future Empress of Lagalla saw the beaming woman with crimson hair smiling at her beyond the portal, it was as if she was a child again.
“Delia!” she shouted as she dove into the woman’s laughing arms. “By the Goddess, Delia! You’re here! I’m so happy, but by Maeve’s gaze, what are you doing here? Your parents would be furious if they knew you were here! The magisters would be furious.”
Calming her serene, cough-interrupted laughter that escaped her as her old friend squeezed the air out of her, Delia pried herself away from the death grip she shared with Camellia. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them, Cammie. And besides,” she said, a sly grin on her face, “what Lord and Lady Crestworth think of me does not matter anymore. After all, they no longer have a daughter, remember? There’s no way I could have skipped this event. I needed to be here for you, even if it was from the other side of the audience.”
“Oh, Delia,” Camellia said, unable to stop herself from hugging the redhead again. “I’ve missed you so much.” She pulls away from Delia, her eyes glowing with curiosity. “How have you been? Is your husband treating you all right? You had a son, right? Oh my Goddess, he must be, what, almost two years old now? What is he like? What’s his name? What is he-”
Delia laughed again, holding up a hand to her old friend. “Let me answer a few of these first, Cammie. My memory isn’t as good as yours! I’ve been wonderful, Rictor is everything I could ever ask for, my son, Davian, is a little bundle of delight who enjoys walking into rooms full of Rictor’s old mercenary equipment, which is far too sharp for a boy a few months shy of his second nameday.”
“They sound wonderful. Oh, I do wish that I could go and see them. Perhaps I can slip away on Midnight some time and visit? Surely as Empress, I should be allowed to go and visit my best friend.”
“Perhaps you can. I’m… I’m sorry I won’t be able to attend the wedding, regardless of who the luckiest man Emperor in Lagallan history ends up being. I daresay it was my only regret when I left the city.”
Camellia shakes her head. “I understand, Delia. Honestly, a part of me thinks your entire tale is horribly romantic. Giving up your name, your title, all to love a man you were forbidden from loving? It sounds like something from a story. Hermine will do a lovely job as my maid of honor, but your presence will be sorely missed.”
“I trust in your kid sister to pick up my slack, then. She always did get jealous when I was around, after all. Perhaps this will be her chance to steal your heart as your favorite?” Delia said with a wink. “But alas, you are right. I should… probably not get too comfortable. If someone sees me here, they won’t be very happy. Not to mention Rictor is probably rather lost at the moment...” Delia looks down the hall before turning back towards the room. She peers into it. Rosa curtsies slightly at her from inside the room, having already swept the room of the azure locks.
“Rosa. I trust this little rascal of ours isn’t causing you too much trouble?” she said, wrapping her arm around Camellia’s shoulder and pulling her close.
Rosalyn shakes her head, a soft smile on her face. “Of course not, Delia. I trust my sister is following suit?”
Delia shakes her head. “Quite the contrary. She’s been a Goddessend these last few years. She’s with little Davie right now, back home, despite Rictor’s insistence that my toddler should have come to watch today’s bloody spectacle.”
Rosa’s face suddenly looked very tired. “Is she truly alright? I was rather worried that helping to care for a child would remind her of…” Rosa trailed off, but her meaning was clear to the women.
Delia’s heart sank. “I caught the poor girl crying a couple of times when Davian was an infant. She… I believe it truly made her realize how hard it would be that she would never have children of her own.”
The three women grew incredibly silent for a moment.
“Please, continue to take care of her. For me,” Rosa said.
Delia nodded. “I will. Don’t worry, Rosa.” She let the silence ring for a few more moments. “I must be off for now, though. Look for me in the crowd, you two. I’ll be there to support you, no matter what, okay?” Delia bends down ever so slightly to give Camellia a big kiss on each cheek. “I love you, Cammie. Don’t you go forgetting that after you put on the crown, okay?”
Camellia nods. “I won’t. Take care of everyone, Delia.”
Delia had turned and stepped out of the door. She spins on her heel and shrugs at the two other girls. “When have I not?” she says, matter-of-factly, before pulling a heavy winter cowl over her red hair. With one last smile, she turned and swept down the hallway. Camellia watched her until she rounded the corner.
“I miss her,” she said.
“I know,” Rosalyn said, stepping out of the room behind Camellia. “Me too.”
“Promise you will not go and leave me too, Rosalyn. You and Delia are as much my sisters as Hermine. I will not suffer you to leave me too.”
Rosalyn’s breath caught in her throat. For that eternal second, it felt like she was trying to swallow an apple whole. Guilt pounded in her head as she absentmindedly touched a spot on her chest. Though covered by her maid’s garb, beneath it held evidence; a mark of shame and guilt and love and passion.
I am the world’s fool, Rosalyn thought to herself, as her mind brushed the tryste two nights past.
“Of course not, Camellia. I will be here for as long as you need me.”
"Good," Camellia said, curtly. Her voice trembled, clearly attempting to stem the tears from stress that threatened to ruin her makeup.
Rosalyn's heart bled crimson tears as she squeezed the shoulder of the woman who would marry the man she loved if he survived until tomorrow.
The Gandr Einvígi.
Every generation of Haventrees bore twin boys. One of these boys would go on to become the Emperor of Lagalla. To decide this, the ancient rite of the Gandr Einvígi is held on the eve of the boys’ eighteenth birthdays. The boys would meet on the field of battle and test their skills against one another. One would succeed, one would fail. Often times, the loser would be executed, to prevent future attempts to the Tome. Sometimes, the future emperor would take pity on his sibling. In 529, Emperor Lewin Haventree spared his brother, Hugh Haventree, who later served on the Council of Magistrates. In 783, Emperor Inigo Haventree spared his brother, Rhys, who later joined the priesthood and served as High Bishop until his death. In 894, Emperor Rex Haventree spared his brother, Luca. Luca later assassinated his brother in the night. While it was hardly the first assassination attempt from a brother who was spared, it was the first that succeeded. No Haventree had spared his brother again in the next one-hundred years of Haventrees.
This did no favors for Camellia Risewell’s current emotional state. On her own eighth birthday, she was told that she would be the next Empress of Lagalla. For the next eight years, she has the privilege of getting to know both of the Haventree twins. They were two years her elder. Both handsome, with deep violet hair. But the similarities stopped there.
Theo was a prodigy, while Gavin was simply talented. His hair was long and straight, kept behind his back in tight ponytail, while Gavin's was kept short and clean, though it always ended up a little bit messy. He was a great leader, and incredibly charismatic, but twice as proud, while Gavin was timid and kind, but not very outspoken.
Theo would be a great Emperor, but Camellia could not help but be afraid of him. Once, while the two were spending time on the vistas, she witnessed him strike an Aspirant servant who crossed his path.
I fear he would have killed the poor boy had I not been there…
She leaned back in her chair, staring at the mirror in front of her. She wore a brilliant viridian dress. She hadn’t enjoyed the color on herself for the longest time, but after the better part of a decade, one must accept such simple things as an inevitability. Perhaps she could invest in some darker shades once she was crowned. Surely no one would fault an Empress for that?
“Can you look down for me, Your Majesty?”
Camellia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Oh, please, Rosa. Do not start that with me now. Please. I can already hardly believe I am going to be a Haventree in a month, but that’s absolutely no excuse for you. Enough folk shall be calling me by this title or that soon enough. I would rather one of my oldest friends not start too.”
Rosalyn laughed quietly, taking a lock of Camellia’s beautiful azure hair into her hands. With her other hand, she took an elegant pair of shears, working it into a masterpiece. “Is that a royal decree, Camellia? Or a personal request?”
“Can it be both?” The two shared a quiet laugh. Camellia looked at her lady-in-waiting in the mirror.
Rosalyn was everything a Haventree should want in a servant. Her hair was a gorgeous shade of white, made even more beautiful by her amber eyes and tan skin. While Camellia was just now growing into the woman she would become, Rosalyn was very much already there. She was kind, considerate, talented, impossibly patient. But Theo wouldn’t see that. He would only see another Ungifted. She feared for her companion’s safety should he win.
“You seem troubled,” Rosa asked quietly.
“Is it that obvious?” Camellia said. “I do not want… I wish there was another way.”
“You don’t want Gavin to die,” Rosalyn said.
Camellia’s fingers dig into the corner of the chair. “It is not fair. There has to be another way than this. I know it is tradition, but it is not a tradition I enjoy. Gavin has no desire to fight his own kin, and yet he’s being forced to. Can you imagine having to face your own brother to the death? Or worse, can you imagine having to watch your children kill each other? ‘Tis barbaric.”
“Perhaps you won’t need to,” Rosa said. “You are going to be Empress. Perhaps you can try and… perhaps, cancel the Gandr?”
“But that does not help me now, Rosa. I… Theo…”
“He did promise to spare him,” Rosa said. “He swore to you that he would not kill his brother, did he not?”
“And do you truly believe him? The people will call for blood. When Theo wins-"
"If Theo wins," Rosa corrected.
"Either way. He will not be able to turn them down.”
Rosa fell silent for a moment. The silent snip of scissors was deafening in the preparation room that they were using.
“But you are right. I will. I swear, so long as I live, I will not watch my own children slaughter each other. Mark my words, Rosa.”
“Consider them marked, Camellia,” she responded with a smile. She pulled back Camellia’s hair and fluffs it out, the powder blue locks landing across her shoulders with elegance. “Do you like it?”
Camellia smiles. “I love it," she said, washing her trepidation down the drain for a moment. "Truly, Rosa, you are a woman of infinite skill. I never asked when you learned this one.”
Rosalyn removed the silk cape from across her lady’s chest, giving it a swift flick to scatter the blue hair to the ground. Setting the shears to the nearby table, she grabs a broom to collect the discarded hair from the ground. “Not a particularly interesting story, I'm afraid. Like most of my menial skills, when I was very young, before I served the Crestworth family, I was in charge of caring for my younger sister,” Rosa explained as she swept, “After… everything, I did much the same work for the Crestworth family. Lord and Lady Crestworth were especially fond of simple haircuts, but none allowed me to get so creative as-”
A knock on the door interrupted the girls. Rosalyn looked over at her lady, silently inquiring if she would like for her to answer the door. Camellia shook her head. “Coming,” she said as she hopped up from the chair, walking carefully as to not wrinkle her dress. Considering it was midwinter, the sleeves were long. Even without the heavy cloak that accompanied it for outdoor travel, she could feel the chill of the evening creeping into the thick stone chambers. Absentmindedly running a hand through her now-thinned hair, she moved to the door and opened it. When the future Empress of Lagalla saw the beaming woman with crimson hair smiling at her beyond the portal, it was as if she was a child again.
“Delia!” she shouted as she dove into the woman’s laughing arms. “By the Goddess, Delia! You’re here! I’m so happy, but by Maeve’s gaze, what are you doing here? Your parents would be furious if they knew you were here! The magisters would be furious.”
Calming her serene, cough-interrupted laughter that escaped her as her old friend squeezed the air out of her, Delia pried herself away from the death grip she shared with Camellia. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them, Cammie. And besides,” she said, a sly grin on her face, “what Lord and Lady Crestworth think of me does not matter anymore. After all, they no longer have a daughter, remember? There’s no way I could have skipped this event. I needed to be here for you, even if it was from the other side of the audience.”
“Oh, Delia,” Camellia said, unable to stop herself from hugging the redhead again. “I’ve missed you so much.” She pulls away from Delia, her eyes glowing with curiosity. “How have you been? Is your husband treating you all right? You had a son, right? Oh my Goddess, he must be, what, almost two years old now? What is he like? What’s his name? What is he-”
Delia laughed again, holding up a hand to her old friend. “Let me answer a few of these first, Cammie. My memory isn’t as good as yours! I’ve been wonderful, Rictor is everything I could ever ask for, my son, Davian, is a little bundle of delight who enjoys walking into rooms full of Rictor’s old mercenary equipment, which is far too sharp for a boy a few months shy of his second nameday.”
“They sound wonderful. Oh, I do wish that I could go and see them. Perhaps I can slip away on Midnight some time and visit? Surely as Empress, I should be allowed to go and visit my best friend.”
“Perhaps you can. I’m… I’m sorry I won’t be able to attend the wedding, regardless of who the luckiest man Emperor in Lagallan history ends up being. I daresay it was my only regret when I left the city.”
Camellia shakes her head. “I understand, Delia. Honestly, a part of me thinks your entire tale is horribly romantic. Giving up your name, your title, all to love a man you were forbidden from loving? It sounds like something from a story. Hermine will do a lovely job as my maid of honor, but your presence will be sorely missed.”
“I trust in your kid sister to pick up my slack, then. She always did get jealous when I was around, after all. Perhaps this will be her chance to steal your heart as your favorite?” Delia said with a wink. “But alas, you are right. I should… probably not get too comfortable. If someone sees me here, they won’t be very happy. Not to mention Rictor is probably rather lost at the moment...” Delia looks down the hall before turning back towards the room. She peers into it. Rosa curtsies slightly at her from inside the room, having already swept the room of the azure locks.
“Rosa. I trust this little rascal of ours isn’t causing you too much trouble?” she said, wrapping her arm around Camellia’s shoulder and pulling her close.
Rosalyn shakes her head, a soft smile on her face. “Of course not, Delia. I trust my sister is following suit?”
Delia shakes her head. “Quite the contrary. She’s been a Goddessend these last few years. She’s with little Davie right now, back home, despite Rictor’s insistence that my toddler should have come to watch today’s bloody spectacle.”
Rosa’s face suddenly looked very tired. “Is she truly alright? I was rather worried that helping to care for a child would remind her of…” Rosa trailed off, but her meaning was clear to the women.
Delia’s heart sank. “I caught the poor girl crying a couple of times when Davian was an infant. She… I believe it truly made her realize how hard it would be that she would never have children of her own.”
The three women grew incredibly silent for a moment.
“Please, continue to take care of her. For me,” Rosa said.
Delia nodded. “I will. Don’t worry, Rosa.” She let the silence ring for a few more moments. “I must be off for now, though. Look for me in the crowd, you two. I’ll be there to support you, no matter what, okay?” Delia bends down ever so slightly to give Camellia a big kiss on each cheek. “I love you, Cammie. Don’t you go forgetting that after you put on the crown, okay?”
Camellia nods. “I won’t. Take care of everyone, Delia.”
Delia had turned and stepped out of the door. She spins on her heel and shrugs at the two other girls. “When have I not?” she says, matter-of-factly, before pulling a heavy winter cowl over her red hair. With one last smile, she turned and swept down the hallway. Camellia watched her until she rounded the corner.
“I miss her,” she said.
“I know,” Rosalyn said, stepping out of the room behind Camellia. “Me too.”
“Promise you will not go and leave me too, Rosalyn. You and Delia are as much my sisters as Hermine. I will not suffer you to leave me too.”
Rosalyn’s breath caught in her throat. For that eternal second, it felt like she was trying to swallow an apple whole. Guilt pounded in her head as she absentmindedly touched a spot on her chest. Though covered by her maid’s garb, beneath it held evidence; a mark of shame and guilt and love and passion.
I am the world’s fool, Rosalyn thought to herself, as her mind brushed the tryste two nights past.
“Of course not, Camellia. I will be here for as long as you need me.”
"Good," Camellia said, curtly. Her voice trembled, clearly attempting to stem the tears from stress that threatened to ruin her makeup.
Rosalyn's heart bled crimson tears as she squeezed the shoulder of the woman who would marry the man she loved if he survived until tomorrow.