What is Life, after all, without a Dream?

[Axelu 4333]

WHAT IS LIFE, AFTER ALL, WITHOUT A DREAM? 

 

In the Palace of Novellen, Henrietta, the Duchess of Furnestock, reclined against the bay window within Simon Basrid’s office. Young and with pallor, the girl drummed her limber fingertips against the pages of her journal, her alternate palm wielding a plainly ornate quill. She was but a child -- one endowed with the future of her line and the toils that would eventually come with it. Yet, she was a child with ideas.

 

Swiftly, she lowered the instrument into the inkwell, submerging it in the onyx substance for some time. Once she was certain, she hefted it and brushed it across, nesciently permitting for a blotch of ink to serve as her introduction to the entry.

 

---

 

 

“Dear Papa, 

 

I’ve decided to write today.

 

For very long, it seems, has the Archchancellor been urging me to do so. He says it will perhaps fuel my mind and spirit; that I shall need to refine my wit to reach a similar caliber to that of my ancestors. Wardship beneath him has been enriching, if not overwhelming. He has ambition for me, I’m certain.

 

To some degree, papa, he has taken your place. Perhaps it is cruel of me to say so, or brazen, but it is only veritable. He has been there for me, perhaps as a colder, more professional presence, but here regardless. I desire to see you, my papa. I care not if the Emperor holds contempt for you, or otherwise, for you are my papa and I miss you!

 

You once told me that a dragon cannot be at its strongest without another at her flank. Your words ring through my mind daily. I appreciate what the Archchancellor has done for me, and my liege-uncle’s cordiality, but there are things I cannot learn via perfectly instrumented lessons. I have learned the origins of the Johannian line: our purpose, our values and why they led to our downfall. And yet, without you, I have not learned how to love.

 

The war wages on still, after so many years. My childhood has been reached from its britches and devoured by the news of bloodshed and mindless deaths. Only recently, I heard of the death of a princess, killed by rabid mercenaries! Of course, this is what the servantry has offered me. I know naught if their word is wholly veritable, but I’m inclined to trust them.  

 

I need my home to return. This is not a physical world that I speak of, but instead one I have fabricated in my head, for you see, I greatly dislike this one inhabited by men lusting for battle and women sitting subserviently by. I yearn for a united humanity, no longer laden with the fruits of mortal greed and hatred. I yearn for a humanity with a desire to succeed and thrive. I yearn for a humanity that does not collapse in on itself; one with a dream. What is life, after all, without a dream? 

 

The dragon shall prevail. 

 

IN NOMINE DEI

 

Your daughter and heir, Henrie 

 

 

---

 

 

Suddenly, she’d tear the letter from its binding to her notebook, its leftmost margins now jagged. Nevertheless, the solemn girl beckoned an idle handmaiden forward, proffering the letter to her.

 

”Assure this reaches the public.”

 

”But, my lady, this seems to be a--“ resisted the adolescent maid, only falling silent and agape as Henrietta’s hand strikes her supple cheek.

 

”I did not stutter, did I? Now go, miss, and do as you are told.”

 

As the recoiling girl departed, Henrietta rose, beginning to nonchalantly pace about the room as she recited, ”Manners and respect won’t ever go out of fashion.”

 

[shortchangehero 4217]

A Lothranian knight finished reading the letter before mumbling to himself, “the descendants of Horen are nothing but savage animals without a leviathan to keep us in check. An enlightened author,” and with that the knight drew his blade preparing to combat recently spotted bandits on his roads. 

[LithiumSedai 5750]

Somewhere in a distant hold, far from the reach of Orenian soldiers, lay a man recovering of wounds and ailments unknown; immobile through the treacherous passage of time, at the whim of fleeting sky-daemons. Strapped into his Horenic plate, beneath which lay endless wraps of bandage, through a servant’s grace did the Prince of Alstion, known as Charles Edward, get ahold of his beloved daughter’s correspondence. Emotion overcame the wounded man; the hideous scar which came to be along the length of his neck, reminiscent to that of a deadly sword’s blow, impaired in its healing by his bouts of mournful, ironic laughter. Braving the immense pain, the Prince grasped for his ink and quill, penning a response through ungodly effort. @Axelu

 

---

My dearest Henrie,

 

 To receive word from you, my little flower, fills my heart with immeasurable resounding joy, in my days of solitude in recovery; to hear of your continued and guaranteed well-being in these times of sorrow, after months of our forced separation, brings me naught but relief.

 

 I cannot be but satisfied knowing of your caretaker's benevolence. Truly, in your writings, I do observe my teachings which His Excellency, as a learned man, has no doubt continued to impart upon you. Yet I miss you equally, and long for the day until I shall recover my strength to once more be in the presence of you and your siblings, in which no Knight nor earthly Lord may prevent this blessed reunion.

 

 In my youth, I, too, had studied the lives and history of our illustrious ancestors. And as this bloody struggle rages on, this war that had left myself momentarily crippled, I weep for the fate of our ignorant brethren of Mankind; I lament for what glory could have been. To sail on the tides of Victory and reclaim our birthright like our progenitor - John, the first of his name - had been my vision; to rule justly until the end of my days like Exalted Godfrey, or to face glorious death in martyrdom like Philip, my resolve. This I could not achieve. For this, my little flower, from you I seek forgiveness I cannot grant myself.

 

 Yet the crumbling of this image of mine draws upon pain which pales in comparison to that of shattered and unrequited love, of stolen warmth and innocence, of broken trust. No, my little flower, you know not what you seek - this innate weakness of Man remains the killer of Kings, and this learned lesson fills me with contempt. Of this poison, this destroyer of hope I have been drained, and there remains none but that which I give to you and your brothers and sisters. Speak not of love but that for your duty, and that towards your noblest blood.

 

 I implore you to, instead, draw strength from the eternal dream which you speak of; this remains your destiny, your calling. The home you desire is the home you must build on your own volition. A friend I had known once told me that all dreams must end; yet this dream remains perpetual, carried upon the wings of Dragons. And those of us who falter in it shall be replaced; our struggle must not end here.

 

HORENVS : VINCIT : HORENVS : REGNAT : HORENVS : IMPERAT
 

 

IN NOMINE DEI

Charles Edward.

 

---

 

[pkdon 2045]

‘Huh’ says Bartholomew

[Axelu 4333]

@LithiumSedai

---

To Papa,

 

Receiving a reply so soon has elated me. I know naught of your location nor your livelihood and wellbeing. I can only hope you are doing well. 

 

The Aeldinic dragon remains in me still, its influence unwavering; its bright flame fueling my path. I implore you, however, to tell me how to heed its call. I am torn, papa, for I debate on whether being a child or statesman should take priority in my heart. I do not wish to undertake my duties so prematurely if I am not ready. How can one be truly sure?

 

Our grand progenitor, John the first, had ambition, as I do, yet he was bred for his destiny by his prince-father. He had a goal. How can I cultivate a path likened to His Majesty’s in a time of so much uncertainty? 

 

For now, I remain limited by my mortal foibles, confined to frailty and naivety. My scales are yet to harden and the weight of the princely crown unexpected may rupture my resolve yet. 

 

IN NOMINE DEI

Henrie