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    Cedric Barclay
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  1. In the ruins of old Merryweather, the Aaunic Prince set down his memorial candles. Henry's reserves were starting to run out, as yet another joined the evergrowing dance of the flames..
  2. In his lowly room, the Lord of Alba stared into nothing, his eyes devoid of anything.
  3. "The fire spreads.." Murmured a Prince of another land, fighting another war.
  4. Henry is utterly confused.
  5. Henry prayed for the dead Novellen, as well as for the living..
  6. "A new Duke, the same old ways.. heretics and traitors, one and all." Muttered the Aaunic Prince as he took note of the news.
  7. Henry heeds the warning.
  8. "A single man has set the world aflame.." The Prince mumbled to himself while seated in his lone, dark room. He wondered a moment of what he had just said before standing up and walking to reclaim his circlet and sword, "Glory to GOD, for none of us deserve it.."
  9. "I thought I had acted nice enough to warrant a invitation.." Murmured Henry to himself before beginning to digest the Balianite etiquette book for the 3rd time.
  10. "Oh wow! The Canonist world standing united against the Anathema again and facing him at Lower Petra - wonder where I've heard about this before!" Remarked Henry of Aaun, signing the Lorraine.
  11. You fall. It’s cold again, and you wonder why. Ardor’s supposed to be filled with warmth, thats why your family has servants. You take a mental note to speak with them later to ensure the warmth doesn’t escape again. The walls are odd to you too, were they always this brown? It almost seems like wood. You shrug it off, though. Someone just painted them - perhaps one of your new siblings as a mischievous joke. You walk up the stairs, there’s more than you remember. Perhaps the city is finally getting rebuilt, you wonder as someone stops you. You finally climb up the stairs and reach your room. Odd, it’s locked. You try the lock multiple times with frustration, then a voice calls from behind you. “Mein Herr, could I help you with something?” “Ah! Yes, I’d like to get to my room.” “Ehm … That ist the Duke’s bedroom, Mein Herr.” You glance from the servant to the door and to the servant again. You wonder his accent, you haven't heard one speak Waldenian in Vienne for a long time. You chuckle at this, nodding. “Ah! Of course, I knew that. Since when have we housed the Duke, though?” “Mein Herr … The Duke has always lived here.” You frown, and then open your eyes. You stop. Henry stared out of the window of the Castle of Neu Brandthof. If one was to just arrive to the room, they would see the youthful Prince standing proud and regal; looking towards the future. But what they didn't see was the reddened eyes, the shaking hands. What they didn't smell from outside was the alcohol and tobacco, what they didn't understand was that he had failed, again. He heard the sound again, the faint whisper that came from somewhere. At first, he could tell where it was coming from; it was the dagger, always the dagger. But now, they are everywhere, always. You lost your home… Failure… Nothing but a number in the line of succession… They died for nothing… You lost her… Failure… Prince of Nothing… Failure… Failure… Failure… I take my circlet from my head and look at it; the ornate gold and rubies. The Crown of my ancestors, I hear them say. It’s weird, really. If this is how much the crown weighs as the 2nd in line, how will I stand as the 1st, or the one sitting on the throne? Someone told me once not to think about it, and I’ve tried to, but I don't think I can. Writing helps, sometimes. Drinking helps more. It’s not responsible, of course. I have duties, a Kingdom, a family, a people. I stare at the circlet for a little longer, reminiscing of times of happiness in Ardor, Corwinsburg, Florentine … Adria. After a moment, my hand places the circlet down. I don’t feel like I'm properly in control, but oh well, when was I? I stand up. I walk to the window. I climb up to its edge. I think of falling, And never stopping again.
  12. "We're so back." Smiled Henry as his hen was finally returned to him.
  13. Name: Henry Charles Age: 13 Race: Heartlander Prior Relevant Experience: Not much of note, yet. Is training hard, though!
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