ON MOUNT GARMONT

[RaindropsKeepFalling 886]

 

 

An artist's portrayal of Mount Garmont

 

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WHAT STANDS NOW as a historic monument to the past is MOUNT GARMONT, left in ruins since the Acrean Revolution. If you have dwelled in Petra longer than a month, then you would recognize its appellation in any official release or ceremony. It stands at the summit of Petra — overseeing the growing Commonwealth from the North.

 

Although its deadened state is naught glamorous, I hope that in documenting its history, the legacy may be honored and revered so our children, and their children, may know what preceded them. Akin to a family's ancestor, these things require a modicum of respect and acknowledgement. In spite of its name living on, its actual life deserves the same action as aforementioned. 

 

H I S T O R Y

 

 

INITIALLY BUILT alongside the County of Mardon in the mid 1850s, under the last Emperor Philip III’s reign, known then as “Castle Garmont,” it stood as both a strategic keep and silhouette to guide travelers and citizenry alike. Occupied by who would grow to become King Frederick I in wake of the brother’s war, Garmont acted as the focal point of Mardon. 

 

Architects and portrayals suggest that the Castle’s appearance was one to be nigh envied. It reflected the County itself, predominantly made up of sturdy stonework and painted tile along with terracotta. The roof was not wholly arched, flat, rather and made up of crenelated parapets and battlements, usually reserved for sky reaching walls of manifold nations nowadays.

 

Regardless, the Castle was not built for excitement and allure alone, notwithstanding the fact that it was the King-to-be’s home, Garmont provided an advantage to defenders, come wartime. Given its high altitude, guards would be able to spot invading forces long before they came anywhere near enough to properly attack (ranged or otherwise.) This aided the soldiers of Mardon to potentially ready the full aptitude of their military, allowing no room for an abrupt ambush.

 

The Castle Garmont remained and was blessed with peace for years to come, throughout the Brother’s War and after that, up until the Acrean Revolution. 

 

T H E   F A L L

 

CONTEXTUAL UNDERSTANDING is needed to truly see the nuance of what came next. Amidst the revolution, Petran settlers (predominantly of Temesch blood, or those who had sworn loyalty) began to flood Mardon, which had been abandoned since the Brother’s War several years prior. Yet, some soldiery remained, guarding the pinnacle of a County (even a home) bygone. Many of these men were without proper leadership, and what kept them from anarchy was an eagerness to heed Oren's command, as loyalists. 

 

During the Acrean Revolution, the late King Frederick’s first son and namesake, Frederick Aurelian, sought refuge in Garmont. As Acre easily overpowered the remnants of the Kingdom of Oren on its last limb, it is to be speculated that Frederick Aurelian foresaw that they would reach Castle Garmont next.

 

Before fleeing, or dying, there is one certain thing that the soldiers of the time saw: forces in numbers incoming. Naturally, the immediate assumption was that it was surely Acre. As a result, Frederick Aurelian provided a final order prior to his disappearance, to burn Castle Garmont before the enemies reached it. This was to prevent them taking control of it in the following regime. 

 

Haplessly, for the next three days to come, an inferno enveloped Castle Garmont, leaving the ruins we know today, and henceforth known as the "BURNING OF MOUNT GARMONT." If he had known that it was instead the Petran settlers, then perhaps the outcome would have differed. However, its initial advantage came to be its downfall, a lack of communication providing no further help either.

 

By the time the Petrans arrived at the mountain's peak, the new Regent Paul Salvian stated that it would be honored, over the sound of coughing and sickness from the smoke. Since then, Dame Catherine of Furnestock (the late King’s sister) has verified that it has and will.

 

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IT WOULD BE foolish to dwell on the philosophy of the decisions of dead predecessors, but we may concur that the actions taken were quite unfortunate. Many adults who are now active in the decisions of Petra’s future were children who grew up in a realm which only knew war. The Acrean Revolution promised a new, better era; we came to witness that this did not survive the test of time under the Harvest Confederacy.

 

Although endings are oft inevitable, death in such a way as Castle Garmont’s may be prevented in the future by the guidance of its ruins, and the people within. I foresee that there are no guarantees, but we may rebuild and look to the reminders of our past to avoid similar mistakes. Hence, the soul of Garmont stays with our nation; we are not helpless.

 

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By

DAME IRENE OF MARDON

1 8 9 3

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O SAINTE RÈGNE PETRÉRE

[JoanOfArc 4604]

Justinian Basrid was up late at night pondering in the room adjacent to his betrothed as he was reading through her latest piece. It was a fine piece of literature. He always believed her to be a better writer than himself (though perhaps less than the Adolphus Gloriana). Petra was a mighty nation whose values were aligned with some of the best and its history, led by his cousins, was grand.

 

But even with her many words, the piece was not her own. It felt hollow; a charade at its finest.

 

They were words about a dream that she cared not. Lies written to cope with the reality of the situation.

 

The Empire, that was the dream. Taken from her way before her time.

 

He felt much like her these days, writing about the past glories of the Empire. Yes, he may have taken solice in the Almighty and His saints, but there was something more on the horizon. Even if the dream of Oren had die, he knew the spirit lived on somewhere.

 

He turned his shoulder to see Adolphus Gloriana sleeping away, and then went outside. He knocked on the Princess's, - No, Dame. She may never be a princess again, Son of Basrid, - awaiting for her to open it.

 

As she did, he whispered the words,

 

"Dreams were never meant to only be dreamt, allāhu ʾaʿlam."

[Spindle 655]

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