Two candles were lit in Liridona’s room that night. A vase of poppies sat beside it.
In the dim light, Liridona turned to face the wall. Upon it was a beautiful family portrait. But two faces were no longer present. Arn, and Poppiya.
”An eye for an eye,” The Amador vowed, reaching for her pink cape.
Thinking about the time a powergamer held me and my friend in crp at 4 in the morning because he (in his words) "was bored and had nothing better to do" and every time we acted offensively he would try to argue oocly
Juniper, upon finding a copy of the missive, frowned. "...Rest well, friend," She bid, before continuing her travels. This time, however, her heart was a little heavier.
They did, this map is significantly smaller than Almaris and probably has double the realms. And as I mentioned in my painkiller-induced plan for world peace, there are currently 8 realms with touching borders.
I got you
I made this while very sick and on like. 8 billion painkillers
https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1ESH3Y2sQRB6Mm35LUJZebA4p2eL4Z_jfRadVoq02yqo/edit?usp=sharing
Liridona held the brooch she had made for her dear Poppiya, running over its gems delicately.
Eleven of my children should be here with me, Liridona thought to herself. But here I only have nine.
Tears dripped onto the brooch.
Where did everything go wrong?
For days, Liridona stared out the window.
She didn’t eat. She didn’t sleep. She only thought of her niece, whom she had been stationed with at cannon 20.
Whenever someone talked to her, she was silent, save for the meek, hopeful question she echoed every time the door opened.
”….Poppy?”
Liridona mourned the Grand King whom had been connected to her family for many decades… and then, she sought to prepare a gift and letter for her dear friend, Princess Amber