A Falcon's True Scion

[penninoe 162]

 

The Falcon’s True Scion

Issued from the seat in Kestrel Altwegg’s Chambers, Under GOD and Empire

Anno Domini
2073

 

The cold morning wind gently breezed through the fields of wheatfields that stretched across the valley West of  Rittersburg. Two falcons meet, baring their beaks and showing their talons. Much to the dismay of Kestrel, he had to face his ambitions. He could no longer afford to wait any longer, the time was now.  And so, upon the Heir of Avistra’s desk arrives a letter amidst the tension that had lingered for the past saint’s day. His suspicions now confirmed true, the letter read as followed;

Merlin,

You are my brother, I will not deny that, not for one moment. Although your viability for the mantle of leadership for the Margraviate is in grave question. A more firm hand is needed should the House persevere for coming generations. I deem you unfit for the title of Heirship and press my claim to Avistra.

It is my birthright as the last son of the fallen Peregrine Altwegg with a mind clear enough to strive for what is necessary. Far too long has House Altwegg remained idle nesting within its seat of Avistra, yet I do not see you advocating for change. I sometimes dwell, what would Raven think of you in your pitiful state.

The life of our dear grandparents hangs on by a thread, I fear their death drawing nearer by the day. Yet I see no initiative from your counter-part as their Heir. Whilst you have dwelled within Avistra, with your head in too many books for you to see our situation for what it is. GOD does not like idle men. 

You’ve the right to respond as you see fit, do free yourself from the inaction however.

 

---

The youngest son of the Falk, Kestrel Meili Altwegg,
Lord of Avistra, of Hummingbirds Rest and Wing’s Crest

[Javert 9615]

11 minutes ago, penninoe said:

The life of our dear grandparents hangs on by a thread, I fear their death drawing nearer by the day

"You little shit." Remarked Ser Meili Altwegg as he read this portion of the missive.

[tadabug2000 4918]

The Lady Junco hadn't recognized her cousin Merlin's face last Saints night. Some may chalk it up to the shock of the day. A Darkstalker had come to their home afterall, intent on leading the youngest Altwegg away. The fight that ensued was chaotic, loud, but the household prevailed in the end.

 

Her cousin, the proclaimed heir, had come out of his chambers. Away from his alchemy and books, and she met him for the first time in the years that she lived. It was odd. Strange. He offered gifts, showed kindness, but he was still a stranger to the young girl.

 

Junco became aware of the challenge not long after. It hadn't been much of a surprise, she had to admit. She could only pray all went well.

[Plausifraunz 361]

Arya felt a brow crease inwards, as the remark of her age by her own grandson was made. Regardless, Kestrel wasn't wrong. Despite Merlin being around initially, and Arya having high hopes of providing a proper heir to Avistra to take her and Meili's seat after their time to rule was over, there was a lack of disregard in asking about what one should do study wise for ruling. A lack of interaction with the people. A lack of interaction with even his own Grandmother.
 

The aged Margravine had raised this boy since his youth and he had quickly taken her attributes to be so soaked into his studies, to forget the world around him. Yet he was forgetting about his duties she had entrusted to him. Perhaps it was well addressed. Both claims were well within the boys rights. Right by strength after all. 

[Digit___ 1224]

“The Reinmaren have a quote about idleness, ‘Wer rastet, der rostet’. If ye rest, ye rust.” Aviel Roy hummed to himself. “Leadership requires nigh-constant motion, so if a future leader isn’t moving, they’re not cut out for the role.” The ginger added, rising from his seat and walking off to continue his work.

 

====== 🔥 ======

 

Matteo of Avistra would read the missive, finally learning how to read after many decades, a wide-eyed expression made.

 

“Oh jeez, this is goin’ t’ be somethin’, huh?” He scratched the back of his grayed hair, thus he wandered into his forge to work on weapons and armor.

[cloverhuh 23]

----[ A Path of Beasts  ]----

 

A letter rests upon the young lord’s desk, sitting patiently in wait among the many dozen trinkets and alchemical instruments sprawled across its wooden surface. A long stretch of particular vines seemingly crawls around and up the wooden frame, accompanied by various plant life. The vines trail toward the corner of the table, where a small portrait of three certain young siblings sits.

 

The door to the room opens, and through it enters Merlin, slowly meandering toward the desk. It is as though the young lord is already aware of his presence, slowly slipping off the gloves that provide comfort for his significantly scarred hands and reaching for the letter, only to pause. Instead, he reaches for the small portrait, gripping and caressing the ornate wooden frame. He examines the portrait with a warm smile, reminiscing for a time. But the past was behind him - the present was now - and the future was tomorrow.

 

He had to confront both his present and future. He lowers the small portrait back to its place on his desk, then reaches for the letter, promptly opens it, and slips out the contents to read. 

 

. . .

 

It did not come as a surprise to the young lord, and it wouldn't have even if he had not been warned beforehand of such a predicament.

 

After all, this was a path of beasts...

 

"...It is only inevitable that the falcon will, in time, cross paths with another within the same skies, just as the bear will, in time, cross paths with another within the same woods, especially when both seek to rule their respective dominions," he wrote on his own letter in response. "Beasts do not possess titles, heirs, kings, or queens. They needn't join one another within a grand chamber to discuss the right of succession, or cross blades for such within an arena. I envy them for that..."

He continues writing, "I do not hold any semblance of resentment or hatred for you, my dear brother. We are of the same blood. We are brothers. Nothing under Heaven can change that - certainly not this. I trust your judgment as much as I trust my own. But you misunderstand. Change is not instantaneous. It is slow, dangerous, and merciless. I am not idle. Simply because I choose to educate myself with books instead of a blade, women, or mead does not mean I am idle."

 

"But I do not hold it against you for possessing such thoughts. All I ask is that you do not underestimate your own blood, especially our dear grandparents. They do not hang by a thread. They will not so easily croak, and certainly will not anytime soon. I know that for certain. Which is one of many reasons I have been focusing on my studies, for I would rather do them now than when our dear grandparents are no longer with us."

 

"Now, my dear brother, if you seek a challenge for succession, then you will find it. I will not deny such a challenge. We can cross blades again as we have many times as young boys. However, I request this of you: do not take this path of beasts, as many hundreds of sons have, for there is always another. Another we can both tread without our blades inevitably crossing. Because I know very well that you regret it. So I ask to speak with you. To cross our words instead of blades. This needn't end in one of us shedding blood."

 

---

 

The first son of Peregrine Altwegg, Merlin Altwegg,
Heir of Avistra, Baron of Trueberg

 

[Mordringfan 166]

Yanick Altwegg read through the missive, his stance on the matter being generally neutral. While he agreed that Avistra was in need of strong and stable leadership for the next line of ruling Altweggs, he did not think this was the way to bring about such. They fold up the missive and place it in their pocket, waiting to see what would happen next.