UnBaed 8945 Share Posted September 22, 2021 Spoiler A younger Moliana plucking the nettles from the soil near Castelul Izvoroshu [Original illustration by: Gordon Robinson] The following is a private entry to Moliana’s journal Please do not metagame the information of this post, unless information is acquired through genuine RP. 13th of Malin’s Welcome, Year 41, To do list: Give Josephine Oijin’s medicine Have cobbler repair hole in boot Du Loc has proven to be more interesting than I had anticipated, and Mister Oijin has been nothing but polite - another surprise. Though, perhaps my judgement had been skewed prior because of the manner of our first meeting, years ago. He had welcomed me into the fortress of the Owynist Order that presides over the village, where they keep a rather sizable collection of books (of good quality, too). It was in those archives that we delved into a discussion on the Material Alphabet and what powers can be reached through the use of the alphabet as a form of tool; the language of creation. Yet many regard the alphabet as just a facet of alchemy, nothing more; some even believe it to only be a viable tool for our own realm and no others. I do not believe that to be so, for how else was that crimson pond formed on that foul night? Those words and symbols reached out into the unknown; a call was made out and something responded to it. Should this alphabet have the ability to be sent into the other worlds and weave spells into objects, and bring brilliance to oil in a bottle - surely, it could do far more? It’s all dependent on the Law of Equivalent Exchange (though I wonder if that is still applicable in other dimensions). This Door that Elimar had shown me is surrounded in glowing runes, though I cannot identify them - nor do I know exactly how the Material Alphabet looks, so I am unable to make any connections myself at this moment. Yet if they were used to create a doorway, or to perhaps seal something away, I wonder what was given to receive that product. This does not leave me stumped and stagnant, however. I’ve many theories to pursue and learn from. Yet, that all must wait for now… I shall be arriving in Providence again in the next day; I haven’t gone back home since that incident between Sigismund and my mother. I just wish to forget it all ever happened now. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spoiler 15th of Grand Harvest, Year 41, To do list: Give Booker oracle wood tea Prepare cookies for Booker Inquire after the Second How could I have not seen this coming? A child’s mind could not comprehend nor safely contain a life spent amongst so many years, especially if some sights are traumatic; an adventurous life isn’t an easy one lived anyways. To have that selective memory is to protect him. I shall never forget the sounds of his screams when he had opened that box, when all had been revealed to him. What pain has he suffered in his life before, to have caused him to writhe and cry out in such a manner? I managed to reach him when his wails ceased, yet words cannot describe the sickened feeling of dread that sat in my gut when my eyes fell over the boy. He was broken, and I was terrified that there would be no undoing of it. I was ready to offer anything I could and more to bring him back, to restore his mind as it once was; so that I could have my closest friend with me again. He has been with me through everything. To have faced the possibility of forever losing him in that moment terrified me more than anything else. I would be alone, and he would be forever changed and scarred - thus being removed from this plane. And it would have all been my fault. I remain grateful for the Second being able to undo this damage, and for Booker to have the strength to reawaken as he once was. Yet I wonder who else had witnessed the ordeal; as that darkened realm began to dissipate with the Second… I had seen a figure shrouded in dark robes step out from behind the tree. I nearly mistook it for a trick of the mists shifting as they departed, my eyes had also been clouded with a considerable amount of tears. It was all in but a short moment... Yet what sort of mirage would speak farewell? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spoiler 11th of The Sun’s Smile, Year 41, Just when I think there’s nothing more to be revealed, another surprise descends from above. My mother is now meant to be an Orenian Empress, being betrothed to the heir of the Imperial Throne; Philip Aurelian. Through the brief conversation I shared with him, my mother, and sister… He seems to be a cordial gentleman, though that is it. I shall doubt I will form any familial bonds with him. It’s an odd thing, to have three fathers in your life by the time you’re twenty… I feel as if more eyes are upon me now, though not in a way that I’d prefer. In the process of this ascension for my family name, other distant relatives in the southern lands have declared claim upon the title that was suddenly bequeathed to Prince Philip and tensions have immediately begun to climb. I have begun to feel a sense of anxiety as I resume my travels, especially in the southern territories; I fear that someone may know of my ancestry and feel as if they may make a point of killing me, to harm my family in the Empire - despite my disinterest in involving myself in such an affair. Perhaps I ought to make plans to reach out to the third, so that I can better defend myself should an incident occur. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 19th of Sun’s Smile, Year 41, So, I have a likeable face. Despite my knowing of Elimar’s care for me, I was rather surprised when he finally admitted them to me - even if he was stuttering and tripping over his words, and only told me how he liked my face and presence… It was nice. Despite that, a part of me is afraid to open myself up again; to trust my heart with another. I am still reeling from the wounds inflicted upon me for how Sigismund had turned away and denied the existence of our love; I cannot turn to another so quickly. To leap into the fray as you lick your wounds leads only to destruction, no matter how much you enjoy the dance of battle or the singing of blades. I care for Elimar, I do. I just hope he can understand the time I need to recover. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spoiler 12th of The Deep Cold, Year 41, To do list: Look into braiding styles Seek out a smith for light protection My head pulses still, even though it’s morning now. When I reached my bed, sleep found me quickly though I was restless in my dreams. When I awoke, I felt as if I'd been trampled by a horse - rightfully so, however. The Third made a point in targeting my head during training, was it three hits he had made? I shall take a day to recover, or two. My nose has bruised awfully, and there’s a split upon my lip. Even my own tongue hurts, I think I managed to bite it during that first kick. I don’t know how I shall explain this to mother, I doubt anything I say would quell any of her anxieties for me. Perhaps I could say I’ve come down with an awful cold, to keep her away. She shouldn’t see me like this. I guess this is a sacrifice I must take, in order to become stronger; to suffer through the beatings of the Third and do my best to take in whatever advice he gives in between the blows. Despite his sickening and annoying arrogance… he made valid points. It’s difficult to listen when it feels like he intentionally tries to tick me off, or when he’s ringing my head; I’ve no doubt he takes joy from it too, but I had already expected for this to come. One day, I shall spite him - or actually land a hit on him. I’m still kicking myself for having hesitated before, or else I could have connected a strike, even if it would have been small. It would have still been something, and he couldn’t even deny the fact of being scratched by some ‘inferior’ as me. Yet I still hesitated. I admit I was fearful of harming Booker too, though… I was al--- The rest is scribbled out. I must prepare for the next session. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spoiler 27th of Snow’s Maiden, Year 42 To do list: Research the AenguDaemonic deities - Eplieadas Find a tea to treat cold Seek out Elimar It was about a day trip, once we crossed through the borders of Hanseti-Ruska. I knew it couldn’t have been too far, according to the descriptions that book from Du Loc provided. Rubern was in a state of utter decay and neglect when we arrived, with the entrance buried in snow and ice - or collapsed. Fortunately, a hole on the castle’s side grated us entry into what I could only guess was the foyer of Castle Illia. Illia, a name I once connected to an ancestor when I still thought of myself as a true-blooded Cotsofana. A princess of the hidden kingdom of Hazmstadt, Illia ‘the Collector’ had broken away from the kingdom due to some unknown reason (at least, unknown to me). A known thing which makes her departure important is due to the strict nature of Hazmstadt; no one may enter, no one may leave - its location is fiercely kept secret, for its own protection of enemies. A place of great minds and inventors, innovators and scholars; my foster family are proven to live up to such traits, thus only fueling my desire as a youth to achieve a similar greatness. Yet… Now, I wonder who she is to my foster family. Surely, she is real - for why would my grandfather have named an entire, sprawling, and grandiose castle after her in the years past? Despite being in ruins and viewable through the light that shone into the icy caverns which embraced the castle, or by light of Elimar and I’s lanterns, it was breath-taking and imposing. It was said to be displayed as an upside down fortress, though I was unable to see such a view myself - yet it can easily be imagined, for how deep its labyrinthine floors reached down. Elimar had pointed out a curious painting, which had not yet rotted away - it had been positioned in some workshop, which held dusty and complex machines and contraptions I’ve never even imagined before. The painting depicted a graceful, deific figure cupping flame in their hands as they stole away from far more imposing and grand beings. I was reminded of a story shared amongst the Hazmez people, of how mankind was saved from being under the threat of the Abyss and its creatures; of how Eplieades stole the power of fire from dragons and Iblees to gift to man, so that we may flourish and fight against these evils of the dark. The Fourth’s appearance in those dark halls continues to unsettle me. To grin in such a manner, while fusing the look of Elimar and I both… Yet they said it was to inspire comfort, in seeing our own selves. I can only imagine how much this being is detached from humanity; this meeting had hardly been like the first two. Although I had been on edge and near-holding my breath for those first meetings, that was nothing compared to the horror and dread I experienced that night. Perhaps the thick darkness of the abandoned halls of Alimar added onto that. The way Elimar fell to the ground and broke down hadn’t been any help, what has he come to know about the Fourth that I haven’t? How and what could he not remember from their first meeting? Perhaps I had a taste of what he may have experienced that night, though I hardly know how I ought to react to it. It was all just overwhelming… To see those ritual sites, those chambers, those paintings, all of these secrets hidden within the ice and snow; the mark of my family left in a cold, dark corner of the realm - one not meant to be touched again. Yet there I stood, in its heart. Some doors are best left shut, the Second always tells me; yet this one demanded to be opened, as I’m sure many more shall. The Fourth is surely to be present for the rest, to guide me - but to what? The Fourth a curious being. They flood my head with so many questions and uncertainties, demanding answers from me to urge me forth… Am I to abandon my foster family entirely? For what purpose am I wanted for, if I was only taken to distract my father from his grief? Surely, they would not wish for me to become one of them… But what sort of asset am I? What is it about me which makes me so valuable to them, to my grandmother, and to the Fourth? I feel as if I’m on the verge of breaking to contemplate it. If I was meant to die by their hands, they would have done away with me as an infant or child. Why am I still here? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spoiler 28th of The First Seed, Year 42, To do list: Prepare a nightglow ink Find a bigger canteen These two months have been better. On the roads and off them, living a wayward day after a wayward day with Booker. The amount of sights he has shown me have been awe-inspiring and breathtaking, to see what wonders of this world exist; of products from civilizations long past and of what the land has naturally formed. It is a needed break. Though I would say the most surprising revelation was Booker’s mention of a family; a brother, to be specific. He had never mentioned anything of the sort before, had he forgotten it for a time or has that memory been one that’s always with him? I would be curious to meet a relation to him, perhaps it could offer me some insight on what the boy and the rest really are. If they are related to Booker, is it only him - or all of the rest? Despite my curiosity with this, I will not press it onto Booker for it is his sole decision to seek out this brother of his should he desire it. My opinion of it has no place to be shared. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10th of Grand Harvest, Year 42 To do list: Measure out blood lotus Trim courtyard hedges, if capable Rest as needed I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at an old woman the same way again, after staring that harpy directly into its beady eyes as it hoisted me into the air. I could hardly hear Elimar’s shouts over its screeching, and my own screams. My shoulders burned with the pain of its talons in me, I sometimes shudder with the thought of reliving it now. How I broke free from its grasp is a wonder, though I know I would have surely died if Elimar had not been there to take me away once I fell. My memory is horribly fuzzy. I had lost so much blood… My coat and shirt beneath were an entirely different shade when I awoke, it had gotten everywhere and I felt so horribly weakened; however, my pain was all gone, save for an ache in my muscles. When I felt for my wrappings on my shoulders, there were none and I felt no stitching or salves or poultices over my injuries. I didn’t even have injuries anymore, just the echoes of them in the shape of jagged and crisscrossing scars of where that harpy once gripped me. When I think back on the incident, all I can recall is Elimar’s voice comforting me as the sun shined over my eyes. Had it been the sun? He has brushed off any of my questions inquiring about it, though I suppose it doesn’t matter much… Whatever he had done, I was saved. Elimar had managed to bring me back to Izvoroshu to recover, he had already prepared me a stew of blood lotus by the time I came to. He had been so attentive and caring… I don’t believe anyone has treated me in such a way before, besides my own mother - but he is different. Hardly ever, did he leave my bedside and was wrought with worry for my well-being and health. His affection for me was proven true, certainly. Perhaps… It is okay to have that person to open yourself up to, to show your weaknesses to. Yet when I had done that to Sig, I was left scorned and I likely remain forgotten for it… Even still, my heart aches and I kick myself for having been such a fool; swearing I shall never be in such a position again. Elimar had once said that he envies the fool in all things. Is it possible to become vulnerable and risk no injury? All of those doubts and worries swirled endlessly in my weary mind, yet they all scattered when he leaned in to kiss me. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spoiler 9th of The Amber Cold, Year 42, To do list: Find remedy for bruises Prepare a letter to Jeffrey Find anatomy books I don’t know which is worse, to be hit in the head so much where you can hardly stand properly - or to have the wind knocked out of your lungs twice, where you collapse to your knees. Where his boot met the base of my throat is all blackened and it hurts to speak, and breath! - and sometimes to even roll my left shoulder. I hadn’t even done anything for him to strike me, it had been instant. I will be mindful to hastily back away from Booker before the Third is to arrive again, lest I wish for him to blacken my eye or kick at my knee next! He spoke on and on about weaknesses of the body this time, seeming far less patient and uncaring about entertaining my curiosity and questions. Valid points have been made again, which I intend to pursue; these vital areas are precious knowledge to me in a fight. A warrior with an axe would hardly care for the precision that I require with my knife, yet if I am clever enough I could still topple them. Though, I should be mindful to not get ahead of myself. There was something about the Third that felt different for this meeting, as if he were more distant than he usually is. Though, before he was always sharper and withheld a hidden intent with the way he spoke, as if trying to antagonize or prod at me to the point of acting out. Remained rude and blunt, of course, though that was lacking this time - save for his usual comments on his superiority, which he refused to expand upon. It was hard to tell with that grotesque mask he’s begun to wear, though the feeling is present. He had been very watchful and discerning; however, I know little on what exactly he had been keeping a lookout for. Perhaps my posture? The oddest part of the lesson had not even been that, but the state of his memory with the Fourth. The Fourth had been the one to show him everything in fighting, yet the Third grew fiercely defensive when he realized he knew nothing on who the Fourth really is. I was not about to test the Third’s patience, yet it still nags at me to know. He never even had a real choice in going through these lessons with me, supposedly being forced into them by the Fourth - but why? Sometimes I feel hesitant to continue going up this path, though I know that there is no more turning back; the door has already been opened, and it can never be closed again. If I’m to go through it, I cannot linger in its threshold. I may try my luck in pressing further on the Third for our next session. M. Spoiler 14 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
MunaZaldrizoti 5710 Share Posted September 22, 2021 From her apartments, Charlotte Augusta seemed to await the entrance of a commissioned artist, who swiftly knelt before her and bid her a good afternoon. A few minutes passed, with pleasantries exchanged, before he offered forth his completed work. Borne within a gold-painted frame was a miniature portrait, bearing the likeness of two young ladies, standing side by side. Moliana and Josephine, her only children. She beamed, now satisfied that even in their adventures, she might always be able to look upon their faces in her hours alone. The Princess had the idea for a special pocket sewn into her bodices for this very reason...so that she could always keep this memento close to her heart. 4 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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