The Palace of the Sun.

[Cheese 8881]

 

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kak1gVBn0gU&pp=ygUcaW4gdGhlIGVuZCBibGFjayB2ZWlsIGJyaWRlcw%3D%3D 

 

 

“ALL OF THIS WILL BE YOURS, ESFIR.

IT IS YOUR HOUSE, I JUST LIVE IN IT.”

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

THE DUCHESS OF SUNHOLDT STOOD atop the tallest tower of El Palau del Sol, or The Palace of the Sun as she had named it upon its construction. The waves, although distant, crashed loudly within her ears. The wind tousled the loose curls that had come undone from her braid, and the sea glittered like sapphires in the way her eyes did.

 

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL ESTATE, perched atop a mountain so tall one might feel they could touch the heavens. Inside was a marvellous foyer, a grand ballroom with pure gold floors, and an art gallery and museum worth tens, if not hundreds, of thousands of mina. It was one of the first things Esfir did upon her marriage into House d’Arkent and becoming its Countess. The walls of the estate were filled with joyous memories; the chatter of guests who had come far and wide to marvel at the Matriarch’s illustrious events, the cheers of friends who applauded every speech made upon the dais. 

 

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL NOISE OF all, Esfir thought, was the laughter of her family. The children ran about the yard, chasing each other with frogs and faux weapons and playing with the pack of dogs. At the head of it all would stand Esfir, hand in hand with her husband Achillius.

 

IT WAS A PERFECT FAMILY, ONE THAT ESFIR BUILT HERSELF;

CONSTRUCTED JUST AS CAREFULLY AS THE NEAR IMPENETRABLE WALLS OF HER KEEP.

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

 

“ONLY DEATH WOULD KEEP ME FROM SEEING YOU AGAIN.”

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

ACHILLIUS WAS GONE, AND IT hurt. Esfir came to terms that it would probably never stop hurting. But still, she trudged forward. Every day she walked the halls that she had built for them, for their family. No longer were the gilded halls the seat of Salia, but that of Sunholdt. With Esfir as Arkent’s Matriarch, she would ensure that her husband would be memorialized.

 

DESPITE THE INCREASE OF PEOPLE living within El Palau del Sol, the halls felt emptier. It was not the lack of her beloved, oh no. Esfir knew that Achillius lived on within the walls. Sometimes she saw him on the beach, and she spoke to them. She told him of how well their kin was doing. They watched the ship he constructed, Dona Esfir, float along the shores. Achillius was not gone.

 

NO, NO. SUNHOLDT WAS NOT empty of Achillius. The halls of the palace were empty of their children. Malcolm had left with no word, and had been stripped of his name. The guilt ate at Esfir; she could scarcely imagine what Achillius would think of her having barred their beloved son from returning. Calliope and Theodosia had married off into Haense; now they were displaced into Numendil and Burgundy.

 

PEOPLE MOVED HOUSES ALL THE TIME, BUT THEY SO USUALLY KEPT CONTACT WITH THEIR KIN.

SO WHY DID ESFIR’S FEEL SO FAR AWAY?

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

 

“LET THEM COME. THIS IS MY REASON.”

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

SERVANTS, SOLDIERS, AND MERCENARIES BUSTLED urgently around El Palau del Sol. Commotion was not unusual, and was typically welcomed, but the day’s business left Esfir feeling nauseous. Priceless heirlooms and art pieces were packaged and locked away; the Arkent grandchildren were kissed goodbye and smuggled out of the keep to Kazan. War was upon Sunholdt.

 

ESFIR AGAIN STOOD ATOP HER grand tower, and surveyed the infinite view. Except this time, instead of peaceful waters and lush forests, the enemy set up their camps for siege. They were so small from atop the castle in the clouds, and Esfir’s eyes scanned them. Would Malcolm be upon their numbers? Would Tereza, or Arthur? The thought made her stomach churn.

 

SHE RETURNED TO HER PERSONAL study a final time before the battle was set to begin. She sifted through her belongings until she found two locked boxes, each of which bearing a different crest; one a dragon, the other a phoenix. She opened the former and filed through the documents inside. On top sat an aged diary, which Esfir removed from its case to look at the documents below. Wedding invitations, love letters, and announcements of births were all sorted atop complex blueprints. All of it, written and drawn and built with her hands. She made quick to reseal the box and stow it away with the last of the artifacts being smuggled out. Maybe, Esfir thought, if the castle was to fall, the phoenix-crested case would be lost to the flames and rubble.

 

THIS PALACE HOUSED THE ENTIRE ARKENT FAMILY.

IF THE KEEP FELL, WHAT WOULD HAPPEN TO EVERYTHING ESFIR HAD WORKED SO HARD TO BUILD?

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

 

“YOUR GRACE! THERE’S BEEN A BREACH!”

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

THE WALLS WERE CRUMBLING; THE gardens were ablaze. Esfir, dirtied with grime, gunpowder, and blood, stared dumbly as the grounds trembled and the enemy forced through the gates. It was falling. Everything was falling. Esfir stood paralyzed as everything she had built; every golden tile of the floor; every chandelier; every fleeting memory of her happy family and the sanctuary she had carved out for the people she held dear.

 

AMIDST THE CHAOS AND SHOUTING of her comrades, Esfir felt lost. Her armor suddenly felt heavy, but her head was light and without any cohesive thoughts. She felt someone grab her by the shoulders; they were pulling her off of the keep’s walls. A momentary glance and she registered that the samaritan was an ally. But why was she letting them take her? Why was she allowing herself to outlive her own creation? 

 

ESFIR SWORE TO FIGHT UNTIL HER DYING BREATH;

WHAT BATTLE WOULD SHE HAVE TO FIGHT THAT WOULD KILL HER, IF NOT THE ONE DEFENDING HER VERY OWN DUCHY?

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

 

“OH, MY WIFE. WHAT A PERFECT LIFE WE WILL HAVE..”

 

˳˙⋆  ──────────────────────༺⠀✧⠀༻──────────────────────  ⋆˙˳

 

THE PALACE OF THE SUN had fallen. Banners of Burgundy and Numendil raised along the walls in place of the fearsome flags of Arkent. No longer could Esfir tuck Tereza, Malcolm, Calliope, or Theodosia into their beds each night. No longer could she dance in the ballroom with Achillius Sr. No longer could her Haeseni nephews and nieces pay rare but welcomed visits to the splendid golden ballroom. No longer could she make out any of the life she had built through the ash.

 

EL PALAU DEL SOL WAS BUILT IN THE IMPERIAL YEAR OF 2001.

BUT THE BUILDING THAT FELL IN 2024 WAS NOT THE SAME AS WHAT HAD BEEN LOST BY HOUSE D’ARKENT.

 

Spoiler

Just a narrative post about Esfir losing her home. I’m going to miss the build, but I made so many great memories building and roleplaying there :) 

See you all at the next warclaim. Ave Balian!!

 

[Yeetboy0206 1574]

A dead man punched the stone walls with fury as he mined in the aftermath of the battle, blood pouring down the bandages and he roars with righteous fury at these...these CREATURES, for after the things they've done he feels sick calling them people. But they would bleed. Maybe they wouldn't die, but they would BLEED.

 

[Lalosia 988]

Peter Marius d'Arkent sat along the walls of Portoregne, firmly clutching a crimson brick he had taken from Sunholdt. The little boy didn't quite seem to understand the mixture of emotions he was feeling, though he did understand family. Balian was his!

#NovellenOrNothing

[xo31 3979]

The Seeker, Elijah, let out a bitter sigh. Many memories were made, within that house. He'd make to visit Esfir, soon.

[zuziee 4004]

Philippa wept, and with trembling arms, she cradled her newborn daughter, pressing her close as if the warmth between them might keep the sorrow at bay. She gently brushed a wisp of flaxen hair from the baby's brow, her mind drifting far from the quiet room.
 

She thought of Sunholdt in the spring, how the sea shimmered like glass from the towers, how the wind carried the scent of salt and lilac. In autumn, the reefs below would come alive with color, fish darting like living jewels through the water. That place had raised her after her parents' death, and now,  she would never get to show her daughter the world that had made her. That loss stung deep. 

[annanicole__ 2802]

Beryl Augustina wiped the dirt and grime from her face, scanning her surroundings for Tod. "We will return stronger and better," she declared. 

[Chronics 482]

The Heir of d'Arkent stood upon the walls of Portoregne  after the battle of Sunholdt watching as smoke covered the sky.

[__Stal27 2126]

Lothar Casimir, peering ahead as the keep of d'Arkent crumbled under the weight of the canons offered a simple nod to the de Lyons. "We march unto the next. . ." 

 

@tcs_tonsils_

---

 

Whilst dressed in a robe of purple, the Teletubby of Monterosa wept as his purple form was cut and he was left. . . "Over the hills and far away. . ."

[tcs_tonsils_ 3666]

Sigismund de Lyons watched the flames raging from the city walls. As they rowed back across the river, he tapped his side before looking at the oldest Novellen Prince. Many had been slain and the keep had fallen that day. "This is our stance, we know the consequences. Our resolve is unchanged." @Stal27

[Mescaffier 6197]

Spoiler

Beautifully written and formatted, I'd expect nothing less from cheese!!!!!!!!

 

 

Helena had not watched. Had not asked about the battle, even - she bit her tongue knowing what the outcome would be. "What happens when people of warring nations go to the Seven Skies?" she asked the priest beside her, prayer beads trembling in her grasp. "I'd like to imagine we forget all of our grudges and live as one. Perhaps our ancestors are shaking their fists at us for all this hate," she murmured, gaze sweeping back to see her two children, Augustus & Elliana behind them intently listening. For a terrifying moment she was forced to imagine their little hands holding swords too large, faces gray and still. The woman shuddered, bringing her clasped hands even tighter near her forehead. She could not change what has already begun -- but she could save them, at least.

[WhimsicalOwl 268]

47 minutes ago, Velkuzat said:

  Reveal hidden contents

Beautifully written and formatted, I'd expect nothing less from cheese!!!!!!!!

 

 

Helena had not watched. Had not asked about the battle, even - she bit her tongue knowing what the outcome would be. "What happens when people of warring nations go to the Seven Skies?" she asked the priest beside her, prayer beads trembling in her grasp. "I'd like to imagine we forget all of our grudges and live as one. Perhaps our ancestors are shaking their fists at us for all this hate," she murmured, gaze sweeping back to see her two children, Augustus & Elliana behind them intently listening. For a terrifying moment she was forced to imagine their little hands holding swords too large, faces gray and still. The woman shuddered, bringing her clasped hands even tighter near her forehead. She could not change what has already begun -- but she could save them, at least.

Elliana asked no questions as she listened - for what else could she do? Her gaze shifts to her brother, briefly - watching as he relentlessly tries fixing his hair, as he often did. She could not imagine her brother going into battle - let alone wearing a helm... she looks back at her mother, sadly. Very little did she understand about this war, but... well, if ever came the day one of them had to fight - she decided it would be her duty to fight where Augustus would surely fail.

 

---------------------------------------------------------

 

Lenora watches as people return to the Hill, hearing their shouts of victory. She smiles, for she hadn't any doubts in how the battle would end. What will be, will be.

[GhostSHTR 1205]

Edvard Lother Ludovar would watch as the church's rally slaughtered and razed the island of El Palau Del Sol. He'd only say a prayer for his In-Laws as they battled against the Church's Rightous forces

[FireAGN 1207]

Malcolm, once a son of Sunholdt, sat alone in his room in Lemon Hill, watching soldiers march out to war and return again. As they left, he let out a loud cough—loud enough to be heard from his windowsill to the courtyard. It was a weak excuse not to fight, but the truth was, he wasn’t ready to go back home. As the day wore on, he lit nine candles at his window—one for each of them: Esfir, Achillius, Aleksandr, Korina, Octavius, and his four nieces and nephews. His old family. The ones who cast him out. Still, he hoped they survived. He hoped to see them again, even if they would never speak to him again.

[The Vulgate Cycle 577]

"How few remain." Arthur thought, in a dream, trapped inside his own body. And though he missed the battle, did not even know it happened... He could guess its outcome and walked his own mind-scape, dreaming of peace.

Edited April 13, 2025 by The Vulgate Cycle