Hadrian

[ErikAzog 3313]

“Our people, no matter what, have to be defended from those who despise us.”

Spoiler

He knew it was over, his body had begun to fail him. Years of working with dangerous chemicals and in the presence of smog had taken their toll upon his body. His years in alchemy, in furthering his pursuit of knowledge have finally come to take him. He knew he couldn’t continue. Time runs out for all. And his time has arrived.

 

But he couldn’t help but reminisce on all that's happened in his thirty five year reign. From Almaris to Aevos, he led his people through the Mori crisis, through the uncertainty of the Canonist League war against Adria. Though he knew that it wasn’t over, despite what was agreed and whatever peace was made. 

 

But for the sake of his people he agreed, a peace, more a truce he would soon learn. But he had faith in his friend the Prince of Aaun, Henry Alstion. Faith in that peace can be achieved. He only wanted to believe that humanity can be at peace. But knew of the cruelties of the world and of the forked tongue that the Midlanders of Veletz held. 

 

Upon hearing of the kidnapping of his daughter, there were no other options. They had to fight or risk the destruction of their Kingdom and heritage. Always holding pride in his Novellen heritage, but seeing the reaction it elicited from his enemies. He knew he was right. He had to continue to hold true, to the heritage and legacy of Anne Augusta, his most venerable ancestor. A ruler he had in high praise, for like he, she only sought to do what was best for their people.

 

His final years were spent in the war he had spent his reign preparing for, the war against the enemy that sought the destruction of his Kingdom. What terrible enemies he thought. But saw how his people had rallied, enough was enough. Breakwater and Brasca were great victories, the Balianese people triumphant against the enemies that plagued them. 

 

But as these victories pushed them forward, he found himself no longer as fast as he was, he cursed his illness, brought by the projects so very much loved. His love of Alchemy, through it he was able to assist as many as he could. Now time was up. 

 

As it came to a close, he would be seen less among the people and be spotted standing at the beaches of Balian looking out into the sea, reminiscing about all that’s led up to this moment. But he couldn’t help but smile to see how far the Kingdoms had come. The will of the people was that they would fight until the end for Balians survival and with that he could be at peace with. Even if he would not see to the end with them all.

 

 

On 20th of Horens Calling, 1956. 

There’s nothing more morbid than writing your final words, but I write to all of you, those who came from to settle our Kingdom, those who have been here since the start and never lost faith. My appreciation for you all had never faltered, through my many flaws, I am glad you were all here. Through the good and bad. We all stood by each other at the Tuvmas tree, we settled the shores of the Ruby Coast and made a Kingdom for ourselves. Away from the troubles of the Midlands or so we hoped. 

 

Many say it’s a people's duty to serve the King, but I’ve only ever tried to serve you, the people. For what is a Kingdom without its people. Although now I know for certain we won’t be putting the star upon the tree together. I hope you all have a wonderful time with your family.

 

Born Hadrian Casimir, King Adrian of Balian would pass away the night of this letters publication. Surrounded by family and friends, he was reported clutching the hand of the Oracle of Balian hand as he finally rested.

 

 

HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Adrian, by the Grace of GOD, King of Balian, Viscount of Eflen and Anatis, Baron of Brucca,Valens, Malenos, Goza and Ciavola, Lord of Portoregne, Atrus and Monterosa, Warden of La Costa Rubinissima, Prince of the Holy Orenian Empire, Protector of the Heartlanders and the South, etcetera.

 

Reigned:
1921-1956

 

Spoiler

Well my time has come to a close as King of Balian, I can’t express how fun its been with all the people who were there and came in with the start of Aevos. I can say it was a very fun experience and a fulfilling one to join a community many thought would die, but through our persistence we kept it going. 

 

I’ll still be around since we have a war to fight, but not in the same capacity as I was before. I am confident in Highfire taking the reign as much as one can be. They’ve been here since we started in Balian. 

 

I’d like to thank several people for just everything Mady, grool, dib, maur, so many people! And all the new faces that came into Balian and became mainstays such as zora_t, retro, asoart. It was seeing all of you come on and believe in the project that kept the engine going.

 

Have a merry christmas everyone!

 

Edited December 27, 2023 by ErikAzog

[Mady 3037]

The Amiratus of Balian knew time with the King was not long left, though she did not weep for her king, she wept for her dearest brother who she owed most in life to. 

[DrakeHaze. 2483]

rAsmOt while away for the holidays hears word of the monarchs passing, he sheds a single tear and ponders his orb wondering 'where shall my wizardly self wander to next?'

[HIGH_FIRE 4118]

As the Princess of Monterosa watched her father slowly slip from consciousness and soon life, she would mumble something, something very quiet. “Until all my enemies are dead-“ she paused and thought to her father’s strong response to her kidnapping to all the attacks Balian and her people had received. She thought of his strong resolve to bring down Veletz, Station and any other who sought to harm the otherwise peaceful Kingdom of Balian. “-I will not be free” she finished the sentence, uttering the words she heard from her father many times. She’d sign the Lorraine and get up from her seat, no longer the Princess of Monterosa, but the Queen of Balian.

 

Sibyl would, after seeing to her father’s dead body, leave her father’s chambers tears staining her cheeks as the man passed away. Over the past months they’d had several important talks and Sibyl was preparing herself for the oncoming inevitability. She had hoped being mentally prepared for such an occasion would help her bounce back from such a happening, but such was not going to happen at all. As she wiped away the stains on her cheeks she would take a deep breath, thinking through the many memories of her father, the day he had her invested as the Crown Princess, the day he met her firstborn and her core memory of him, the day they went to a festival in Haense together. Life was a lot less complicated back then, she was able to enjoy her time and her and her father enjoyed that day greatly. As she got to her own chambers, she lifted a pen and began writing a document, despite the tragic day, she still had a nation to run now, and that nation was at war.

[TreeSmoothie 4897]

Spoiler

 

Sorry for the sheer LENGTH of this post folks, novel incoming

 

[ Can't spoil on mobile :( ]

 

 ♫♪ “Dear god, sorry to disturb you, but … I feel I should be heard loud and clear. We all need a big reduction in the amount of tears, and all the people that you made in your image – see them fightin’ in the street. Because they can’t make opinions meet about God …” ♫♪

 

“BOY!”

House Galbraith’s affairs – and by extension, John’s – was hardly ever kept private. It was like an open book to all of Balian, a book formerly closed shut by chains and rope and glue that was brutally torn apart against the will of the writer. As a child he sulked the streets weighed down by the fear of his father and the judgement of others. At one point, it became a burning hatred. 

 

It was a day like no other, a sunny day. He’d just turned eleven, or ten, or … those things blurred together. He was young, he recalled. An Ensign in the Armada! Young John, the boy thought, was invincible now, complete with the too-big armour he wore and the heavy sword he could hardly yield. And as he rounded the corner to the square and stopped at the gate, his pride all but withered to a wisp as he felt a rough hand yank his shoulder, turning him about on his heel, to face the looming figure of his father. Carles. He couldn’t remember what the man said. He felt the sun stinging his eyes and, suddenly, his armor was too heavy to stand in. The words hurt worse than they usually did. The boy felt his mind blur and fade, only coming back ‘til, suddenly, a different figure stood before him. Adrian. 

 

“John. Are you alright?”

He’d never been called by his name before, only ‘boy’. That was enough for the young Heir to decide where his loyalties laid for the rest of his life.

 

♫♪ “And all the people you made in your image, still believin’ that junk is true. I know it and so do you, dear … god. I can’t believe in …” ♫♪ 

 

So John became Adrian’s ward, and by god, the talk with Carles about it felt more like a hostage negotiation than anything else. For decades after he’d continue to call himself the King’s Ward rather than Carles’ son. He announced Adrian, he stood beside him in meetings, and nearly died protecting him in the Siege of Balian. As his vision ebbed to black and a spear dug into the socket of his eye, John wept, because he knew few would weep for him, for there would be no funeral – Carles wouldn’t waste mina like that, he thought. And then he awoke on a surgeon’s table, Adrian and Rhys lingering beside him. The King had made him the first Balianite to receive an animatii craft from him, a new eye. And he continued to know where his loyalties would lie. 

 

Carles died of mysterious circumstance, something only John, Rhys, and Godani himself knew the truth of. The now-Baron of Castelorena was all grown. He’d go on to marry Princess Lucia of Hyspia, and King Adrian fronted the bill. John would reveal to the King he had conceived bastards, and King Adrian kept it a secret and offered advice and, need-be, a sword if they got out of line. John lingered in the corners of taverns and the alleys of streets; when there was slander against Adrian, he’d cut it short with a blade. He’d even planned to slay Andromeda over her mistreatment of the man, his hatred knew no bounds.

 

♫♪ “I won’t believe in heaven or hell - saints, no sinners, no devil as well! The pearly gates, no thorny crown - you’re always looking us humans down! The wars you wage, the babes you drown, those lost at sea and never found!” ♫♪ 

 

Adrian & Dante were the closest thing John had ever had to a true father, there when he was at his highest and his lowest. He’d work to become the Royal Legate of Balian, a preacher of peace so that he might see both men become old and wrinkled like the eldest oak tree. Many a visit to Veletz and other realms, unarmed, un-manned, and many a time sent back with little progress - of course, peace wouldn’t last, and John watched both … especially Adrian … stress. The King had grown a ratty beard and a certain desperation lingered in his eyes like that of an animal cornered against flame. A ticking bomb, a shaken blast potion. And so the Royal Legate felt that familiar, gnawing, tearing, ripping fear in his stomach like he had before to Carles. 

 

Adrian was dying. God, he was dying. 

 

So John swung his sword just a bit fiercer each siege ‘gainst Veletz, spent his time in the mines digging for Daemonsteel, loaded each trebuchet shot they’d lob at Breakwater Keep like it was his last. It didn’t stop Adrian from aging, in fact, he saw the old King less.

“We’ve won the Siege of Brasca Keep – but there is much more to come.”

 

♫♪ “And it’s the same the whole world round, the hate I see helps to compound! The FATHER, SON, AND HOLY GHOST, is just somebody’s unholy hoax! And if you’re up there, you’ll perceive, that my heart’s here upon my sleeve! If there’s one thing I don’t believe in  .  .  .” ♫♪ 

 

Anger continued to boil inside the man until it reached it’s worst point, when bandits assailed them outside of the city. John rained hell on foe and friend alike, explosions rocking the Balianese countryside to its core and fire burning grass to ugly crisps. He was captured, and for a year and a day, the Royal Legate rotted in shackles. And when he was freed by Rhys, he roamed the streets, lost, after being given the rundown on the newest Duana meeting.

“King Adrian has blacklung. We’re unsure how much time he has left.”

 

The man truly was dying. With hair unkempt and eyes glossy and tired, he trudged toward two familiar faces for comfort – Gwenyth and Robyn – yet he had the opposite.

“Your son died, John,” Gwenyth spoke.

“But Adrian won’t follow the law against child soldiers - that’s why Alfonso died,”  muttered Robyn.

 

He lost Alfonso. He was losing King Adrian. The man balled his fists, preparing to wail on the Magister without so much as a second thought, but the de Lyons walked off, and so John was left to wander the streets amiss. He lapsed, and suddenly he was held in the arms of his beloved paramour Rhys. For the first time in years he cried aloud and voiced each little worry, and for the first time in years he felt safe. And he recalled, too, when King Adrian supported them against all odds … and law. “You two love each other,” spoke he. “You have my blessing to marry him.”

 

♫♪ “It’s you, dear god.” ♫♪ 

 

And now, he was dead. Adrian was dead. Alfonso was dead. John still had much to live for, but he’d never quite be the same. Each month of Sun’s Smile he’d mourn, and on that day, the 10th, that mark on his chest would burn as hot as white flame. The Baron of Cascanova would begin his descent into madness earlier than most holders of the Pertinaxi Sigil would, and one day he was destined to burn out and reunite with them in the heavens or join Carles in hell.

 

[oryP 972]

The Count glanced to the missive. “GOD rest his soul, mea king. Y can only hope that Sibyl does as well as vy have.”

[Borin 5259]

"Serves him right, may he be condemned to the void for his transgressions upon GOD and his acts of deviency" Brother Ninnias concludes

[Gavin_ 1834]

Lucian Alexander d'Viuva mourns the deceased King from within the confines of his estate. A good and Noble King is what he shall remember him as.

 

Adrian the Adored

 

"May he rest in Peace, wrapped in GOD's embrace for eternity." He would state resolutely, concluding his prayer.

[annabanana1014 1631]

Princess Costantia Irene laid in her own retirement home within a bed, reading the missive. A sigh escaped her as she was getting ready for death as well... 

 

"Shall he live as a King within the Seven Skies." She signed the Lorraine for her family member.

[sergisala 2794]

"The Prince of the Holy Orenian Empire has finally arrived." said Lucius Galbraith as he welcomed his old friend and liege to the Seven Skies "You have honored the legacy of the House of Novellen with your success. Thank you for your noble service to the people of Balian, Your Majesty."

 

-

 

Somewhere in the Galbraith Manor of Portoregne, the balianese historian Marc Galbraith would weep for the fallen king "El Rei és mort. Visca la Reina!" he said in balianese.

[Rigorous 1548]

“I resent you,” said Ferryman Grisha upon hearing rumors. He threw a dart at a small scribbled picture of the King he kept on his wall. “Alas, merciful as the Creator of All is, it is His will that I show you mercy. That despite this war of extinction you helped cause that created pure evil here on El’Taynuel, you shall find your test on this earthly world come to an end. Life for your kind is short. Perhaps you merely did not have time to learn that which is right from what is wrong? Farewell, King of Balian; it shall be hard for your successor to match that august tempo in your step. Though to me you were a bumbling fool, a tool in the colonial ambitions of a genocidal Valahan polity, perhaps most of your acts of evil can be chalked up to wantonness, ignorance or greed.” 
 

With that, the Acaelanite elf resumed his evening festivities, keeping a candle lit for those that had died, those who were to die, and the countless others in the future who might also die due to Haeseni colonial ambition.

 

(Merry Christmas Erik, and a happy new years. I commend your recent humor and upright demeanor as it pertains to the conflict, and hope you and Maur and your family have a great celebration!) 

[Dainndal 37]

Sir Damien de salia would read this news with lumps in his throath and thought to himself he realy is the greatest leader he had ever had.

after he was done reading he saluted up to the sky while kneeling and holding back his tears and said.

 

may you forever rest in peace king Adrien. i shal promise till my last breath i shal protect your daughter and the new queen. you shal forever be known to me as king ADRIAN THE KIND.

 

After he said that he went inside the baracks and started moarning in his own ways.

[Carson 936]

Cloaked in a cloud of stardust, the Oracle wept in her room. There was nothing to mourn, yet she felt so despondent.

[Shmeepicus 3942]

A familiar figure held out his hand as Hadrian entered the seven skies. “Your reign was peaceful and prosperous, my son.” He offered.

 

Percy de Lyons head hung low as he sat on a chair in the palace, his hands clutching the guard of his longsword. “Rest in peace, my Uncle.. my King.” 

[Jaslaw 272]

"The king is dead, long live the king." *Humed a elf, to which it did not mather much if the king died now, or in a few decades... it was going to be soon regardless yet musing* "Soon as it always is with the humans... is it not they way of life?"

Edited December 24, 2023 by Jaslaw