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ABDICATION OF COUNT WARSOVIA

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The sun rising as I write this letter, marking the year of our LORD, 1983. I write on a matter of utmost importance to myself, my family, the land and the people I reside over. Our world, and the domain of the Heartlander Confederation has seen some great changes over my lifetime. It has seen prosperity, and also bloodshed. That is where we currently lie, for a war is occurring not too far from our own homes, and due to the nature of our being I foresee another occurring on our own soil at some point within my lifetime. I have been involved in my own conflicts, taking down the menace of Veletz with nought but common-man armour and a Jazlowiecki-forged blade. I am now almost fifty years of age. When I fought that war in my youth, I was not in a position of leadership - and with deep consideration I have decided it is best I do not keep my fingers twisted around the seat of which I do not excel in heading into potentially turbulent times.

For my son, Jan: I apologise dearly for my lack of presence, my lack of fathership, and apologise even further for the boots you have had to fill. But that filling of boots makes me proud, such a mantle taken at such an age. I hear, see and listen to your presence at meetings, courts and gatherings in my stead, and that is why I have decided you are the true leadership our County needs, so you can represent yourself instead of me.

And with that, and publishing of this letter I, Krzysztof Pawel Jazlowiecki, hereby formally announce my abdication of the title of Count of Warsovia, including all my responsibilities and privileges - effective immediately. The title is to be passed to my firstborn son, and heir: Jan Aleksander Jazlowiecki.

Krzysztof of House Jazlowiecki, Count of Warsovia

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Issued by the
COUNTY OF WARSOVIA
on the 14th of Sun’s Smile, 1971
 

Hear ye, he ye, across the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun… 

rom the COMITAL HOUSE OF JAZLOWIECKI are the twin sisters, LADY HEDWIG MARIA & LADY ALICJA JULIA, regarded as familiar faces around Aaun. Yet, time has passed since the pair were on the uprise of their childhood. In the eyes of Aaunic society, they will become women upon the dawn of their eighteenth name-day. Both Lady Hedwig and Lady Alicja will debut in a celebration known as KUPAŁA NIGHT, to honour their Lechian heritage.

Made from the wild herbs and flowers of the Langkette mountains, the wreath becomes the symbol of fertility, health and one’s future prospects. Both ladies will have wreaths tailored to their liking, different from the rest. From there, the garlands will be tossed into the river by the women present with a lighted candle. If it is to be fished out by a present bachelor, it is meant to signify a quick marriage with hopes in mind of gaining the man’s favour. If it was left to float, or burned in the candle flame, or even became entangled in the riverweeds it is assumed that the girl would not marry soon.

Upon these followed rituals, the merriment of celebrations shall ensue. Beverages shall be widely available, as well as the companionship of dance. Attendees are encouraged to don lighter colours, such as pale blues, greens and yellows or white.
 

All those of royal, noble and common blood in the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun are encouraged to attend, though special invites are extended to the following individuals:

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Charles Reman, Lord of Alba
HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Josephine Florentia of Alstion
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, John Valentinus of Alstion
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, James Marcel of Alstion
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Alexander Caius of Alstion
 

LORD Leufroy Otto of Velen
LADY Guinevere Milena of Velen
LADY Siegmunda Agnes of Velen
 

LORD Guy Olivier of Virdain
LADY Catherine Éloïse of Virdain
 

LORD George Lothar of Halcourt
LADY Eloise Aleksandra of Halcourt

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Elianos Hadrian of Balian
HER HIGHNESS, Kareena Isabel of Nasrid
MISS Lucia
MADAME Lulu
Izar and Itri
 

HIS LORDSHIP, Krzysztof Pawel Jazlowiecki,
Count of Warsovia

LADY Hedwig Maria Jazlowiecki
of Warsovia

LADY Alicja Julia Jazlowiecki
of Warsovia
 

   he subtle breeze brushed by curtains, dimming the candlelight upon the mantlepiece. Its flame flickered with much intention, trying to stay alight, yet were snuffed out before their attempts could become of use. The height of the night had fallen upon Nowa Warsovia. Dream sequences; heavy sweats, unable to be cooled. HEDWIG tossed and turned. Sleep came and went for her, yet in bursts did she find herself swallowed in its embrace. She had been lost in the realm of dreams for days upon end. This one, in particular, was different.

__________________

Half-bird, half-man; an abomination far known to the likes of Hedwig Jazlowiecki, yet ached with familiarity. With its human hands he reached out for her, skimmed with fingertips the back of her own, before joining them in union. The beady eyes of the bird’s head looked back.

“You have betrayed the very thing you swore will fulfil you in this life, little dove.” The voice, clear, rang in Hedwig’s ears. There was an uncertainty to whether she could even respond in this realm, wherever it may be. She, aware of her slumber, only looked on with a distorted stare. The voice continued with question after question:

“Do you yield? Will you cower, and accept it as it is?”

“Why should I?” Hedwig sorely replied, croaking. Her tone had surprised her almost, that her eyes largely widened. She was too stubborn, too headstrong, too proud. Why should she? Yet she did, so invitingly, that it sickened her with a gut-wrenching feel she could not swallow. Her insides felt as though they were being wringed out like a wet cloth. 

The more she looked towards the bird-man, the more she was able to pick his features apart amidst her nausea. The head of a crane sat on the shoulders of a grown man, donning an attire of all-black. What spouted from his back were a pair of wings. The way he appeared was too natural for the hybrid to be in existence. One would assume that he was a frankensteined creature, but it did not appear to be the case. He was a mystery.

“Little dove,” He started, “I have not come to you to give into your needless self-sacrifice. Rather, I possess the power of perspicuity. Obsessed with knowing, with certainty, that you forget yourself. You depend upon the actions of others that you tear yourself apart to make them whole. When will you have your share?”

Hedwig, taken aback, pressed her lips shut. The bird-man continued. “Your suffering does not come from a place of honesty to yourself. If you were, would you not be content in your hurt?”

“You ask so many questions—”

“And yet, little dove, you answer none.”

A moment, then, did Hedwig pause for her next response. “I cannot give you the answers you desire, for what I have done has passed. I cannot change what happened.” Little did she speak, yet in her words did she prove him right. If a beak could contort itself into a grin, it would have. Instead did the bird-man look blankly at her. She was too self-conscious. “I swore to myself not to come to regret my decisions.”

“I did not mention regret.” His words, stern, were somewhat contradictory to his softened tone. He let go of Hedwig’s hands and turned her back to her for a few moments. She caught a glimpse of his wings speckled in cosmos and starlight. In other circumstances, she would have asked to touch the feathers; not now, in this state. Curiosity had always gotten the best of her. “You were willing to carry the burden of a thousand lifetimes and it still was not enough. Do not seek out pity from the earth and wallow in it. Metamorphosis—become, adapt, change. There is still hope. You are more than you think you are.”

“And what, then, will I become?”

He turned around, at last, to reveal the sharp talons where his hands once were. Sprouting with feathers was he directly at his chest, and the bird-man grew in size. Before Hedwig did he morph himself into a majestic crane. He was ten times the size of her now, that if he stepped closer he would engulf her completely. She was mesmerised by his otherworldliness. Those wings that belonged to the night sky stretched out on either side of his body and flapped, once. It was the sound of a beating drum, though much louder, echoing within the void they found themselves in. The gleam in the crane’s eye was vast and unreachable. He was another being now. Her stomach churned.

“The depths of your possibilities are endless, little dove. You do not have to become a martyr for your cause. Watch then, the flames of rebirth embrace you to be something greater than they will ever behold.”

The sounds of rhythmic drumming — his wings — once more ensued. Faster this time, more frequent. He was to fly off. His legs lifted from the ground and he swung himself around, soaring. As the crane went off into the null distance, Hedwig’s vision blurred… 

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Bloodshot were her eyes when she found herself awake. It had hit her hard in the chest, gasping for air, panicking. Immediately did Hedwig’s gaze fix itself to the window. The rosy dawn grew brighter and brighter, spilling sunlight across the wooden panels on the floor. Her hands lifted to her cheek, and felt her eyes, for the first time, fill with tears. The dream—vivid now more than ever. She wrapped her arms around herself and weeped.

For the rest of the month of Godfrey’s Triumph, little was seen of HEDWIG JAZLOWIECKI around the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun. 

Writ of Abdication

☩

Penned by Count Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki

in the year of our Lord, 1966

It was nearly fifty years ago when my father summoned an Impromptu meeting of the House and its many allies. It was upon that day that I ascended to become Count of Warsovia, a title I have held since I was but a youth of Fourteen. In my long tenure, I have seen and endured much- The Adrian Uprising. The Mori Invasions. The Frankish Wars. The perfidious attempted coup headed by Stassion and the subsequent war against Veletz. Yet one thing has been a near-constant throughout: War. It is my earnest and true belief that the times of war are behind us and that a time of prosperity lies ahead. That being said, I am not the right man to lead Warsovia and the Lechian people into this bright new dawn. As we cast aside our swords in pursuit of peace, it is altogether fitting and proper that I, too, stand aside and make way for a new generation of leadership. With this new peace that dawns upon us, let the young, those untainted by decades of conflict and cynicism, guide the destiny of our great realm. It is their world now and it is high time they lead it. 

Thusly, I, Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki, being of sound mind and body, do as of the publishing of this missive, abdicate my position as Count of Warsovia in favor of my son and heir, Krzysztof Pawel Jazlowiecki. May God guide him and grant him a long, fruitful reign. 

W IMIĘ BOŻE

Waclaw Jakub Jazlowiecki

THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, Waclaw of House Jazlowiecki, Count of Warsovia, Grand Master of the Knightly Circle of Saint Godwin