A Darkened Initiative

[AlmondTree 418]

A Darkened Initiative

 

“Labor..” the word rolled over her tongue in disgust. The sun had merely arose above the horizon, as beams covered the peaceful Vicenza household. With her parasol giving her the blessing of cold shade, she observed her workers irrigating the crops and vines of her grand garden. She was only a simple minded child back then, spoiled by the aristocracy provided by old deals with the Viscontii. But those simple times… Had an imminent pass.

 

Years later, she stood there again. But not as a girl, as a matured woman. Her parasol still in hand, she observed the scenery with a saddened face. Things never changed for these men, dedicating their lives for pointless serving a faceless lord. Their parents, just like hers, probably had hoped for a great future to embrace their children. But this was the fait of the lowborne, this was their ‘destiny’. With a roll of parchment, from a faraway family clenched in her fist. She walked with nervousity towards the foreman. With nothing but a nod of determination, she layed the parchment in his curious palms. With silence she walked off again, hoping for the best..

 

What the parchment said was irrelevant for her, she was done with the affairs anchoring her to a certain path. She obeyed what she was told to do by the deliverer, yet her regret had made a certain presence in her mind.

 

The Vicenza family was… Different. Closed behind manor doors, the family waited out the death of her father. The obvious attempts to hide their intentions disgusted her even more. Surrounded by riches and elegancy, it seemed that all the gold in the rooms absorbed the humanity from her relatives, and rendered their bodies hollow. Her claim to patriarchship was denied by a ‘democratic’ family vote, yet the Visconti promised for the necessary intervention. Good people they seemed, but even their kindness was backed by pure self interest. One day those bells would ring, and then she would find out, what secrets that parchment contained...

 

 

And so those bells rang that day, when the tearless family escorted the body of once a father figure, to its rightful place. The workers were the only one who cried, the actual reason deemed unknown. They all looked at that once simple-minded child, standing with her black dress silently. She was the heir, was she not?

 

 

The true colours from her family became shown however, and it was fairly soon when the expected news arrived. The words were bitter in her ears, but now she had a valid reason to let that sealed anger unleash on the deserving people. Yet, she was suprised when the workers marched to the doors of the manor.. Armed and chanting, their humble selves replaced by fear for unleashed savages. The opressive guards had soon gathered, and she gained a faint idea what was written on that very parchment. The one the foreman held high above the marching crowd. Determined, yet afraid she walked upon the stone steps of the tower. The feeling of adrenaline and catastrophe becoming indelible. Once on the top of that tower, she saw the crowd marching. The once depressed workers taking justice in their own hands.

 

 

 

 

As a minor battle enraged between the guards and workers, she sat on the tower in deep thinking. Was this destiny, for these workers, and her? Or was this mere coincedence, the way of life? Whatever it was, it was satisfying.. Her emotions and thoughts unleashed and displayed in a violent masquerade. Her family did unjustified things, but once those loyal workers cleansed said injustice from the lands, she would reign and use their wealth for the better.

 

Unfortunatly for her, evil had triumphed on their victory that day. The bodies of the workers would be replaced by new, and the scars of the land would be covered with new seeds. Life would continue the same way, but not for her. Instead of a dignified execution, her angered siblings had exiled her from the lands. With tears of trauma and defeat, she packed her many belongings. But their victory.. Would not last long.

 

In the dining room nearby, two old bloodlines dined in peace. The Vicenza and their loyal allies, the Chiltons. Close and confusing ties those were, diplomacy was not her expertise anyways. But soon their faked smiles and hollow promises, turned into the undying desire for air. As a rain of goblets dropped on the marble floor, the people reached for their throats as their servants desperatly tried to save their masters. But soon, the table turned cold..silent like never before. Some of those servants, had a suspicious smile, while others had a tear. Who had what was irrelevant for her, as she stepped into that dining room determined. With her pale and nimble hands folded behind her elegant posture, her calm but shaking voice implied

 

‘The lady sends her regards.’

 

With that said, she ran away from the husk of her former life. Emotional and desperate, she seeked for those allies who once stood on her side. What happened in that manor would be a secret to be speculated upon, but even the vines of the wealthy, once decay. A long travel, and a long thought, that was all that was required to reach new hope. As she stood in front of a city with her kinfolk, she soon saw the people described in the letters she acquired. Red clothed, polite and with many, they stood in Kaldonia with their similliar language. As her heavy steps dragged her forward silently in the grass, her desperation and worries withered slowly..

The once simple-minded lady, with compassion for the lesser, had a name.. A name that would soon be heard alot more.. The lady in the ruined dress, the maiden with the cold touch, Felicita De Vicenza.

 

 

(Cred to Draeris! luvyou<3)

 

 

No it's not a rebellion it's a character bio!

[Draeris 3124]

Frederick Visconti, house patriarch suddenly meets a new lady at the tavern opening.. A conversation starts to arise..

[Devland99 180]

(Nice Read and I think I can tell where this is heading...I'll be waiting if so.)

[Peter Chivay 2494]

The Emperor orders exterminatus upon the plagued land. 

[bulgaria is white 461]

A destitute housewife shambles past the gathering, craning her neck to gaze upon the woman encased in finery. Her beady eyes glare onwards with pent-up hatred, a wilted visage hardly able to mask such disgust. After a brief hiatus she proceeds on her way. A faint, raspy statement escapes her lips posthumously;

"Muh woman's suffrage..."

[Birdwhisperer 1174]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.