sanriu

FROM THE ASHES… … “ Love is a dangerous thing, my dear; it is a kind of devotion you shall never recover from.” — Guillèm Ashford de Bruges The tale of their courtship, if either were to be honest, all truly began with a wager. The market bustled with life around the group of young children. Merchants calling out from their stalls, children darting between the crowd, and musicians filled the air with cheerful melodies. Amidst the commotion, Cesari and Beatriz were enjoying a rare afternoon free from their duties. Beatriz had scarcely been paying attention to any of it. Instead, her attention had settled upon Cesári Lucien Ashford de Savoie. More specifically, upon a young noblewoman standing beside him. The pair spoke easily, laughing as old friends often did. The girl seemed perfectly content simply to remain in his company, listening attentively whenever he spoke and smiling at even his dullest remarks. Beatriz watched for several moments before shaking her head. Waving Cesari over, she leaned closer and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper, a cheeky grin tugging at her lips. “She likes you.” Cesari glanced toward the girl in question before looking back at Beatriz. “What?” “She likes you.” The young knight looked once more toward the girl, who had since wandered off to speak with several other youths nearby. “We’re friends.” “Yes.” “And?” “And she likes you.” “No, she doesn’t.” The certainty in his voice nearly made Beatriz laugh. “Lord de Savoie, she absolutely does.” Just as she responded, he was swift to deny it once more. “You’re imagining things.” “I am not!” “Are too." The young girl scoffed; she paused as her grin appeared once more. “Would you like to wager on it?” The young knight folded his arms. “A wager?” “Yes, that’s what I said, isn't it?” She’d answer in a snarky tone. “You are that confident?” He questioned, "Entirely." Cesari snorted. “Fine. You’re wrong.” “And when am I right?” Beatriz leaned in expectantly. Cesari paused for a moment, considering, “I’ll buy you, sweetcakes.” The young de Bruges immediately extended her hand. “Done.” However, their wager did not last long. Within moments, the young noblewoman's affections became impossible to deny. Much to Beatriz’s satisfaction and Cesari’s distress. Despite their previous banter, Beatriz soon noticed something unusual. Cesari hadn’t laughed at her victory, nor at the situation. “What’s wrong?” She’d ask, watching as the young knight glanced away. “Nothing.” He’d answer. “You’re terrible at lying.” A long silence followed, then finally he sighed. “I don’t feel the same way.” The admission came quietly, and Beatriz’s teasing expression softened as she listened further. “I care about her,” he continued. “She’s a good friend. I simply cannot see her that way.. You know why.” “Then tell her,” Beatriz answered bluntly. And Cesari turned to her swiftly, almost startling the young girl. “And humiliate her?” He shook his head. “I cannot hurt her; I do not wish to.” For a moment, Beatriz considered the problem. Rejecting a suitor was simple in theory. In practice, noble pride was a fragile thing, and word traveled quickly through the empire’s courts and halls. Then an idea struck her. A terrible idea. Which naturally meant she loved it. “Then don’t reject her.” Cesari immediately narrowed his eyes. “I know that look.” He warned her; the de Bruges continued. “We tell people you’re already courting someone.” The young knight blinked. “What?” “We tell people you’re already courting someone!” Beatriz answered once more. “That’s an awful idea.” He said. “It’s brilliant!” She’d correct. “It is a lie.” He warned her once more. “A small lie—" He’d cut her off abruptly. “It’s still a lie!” Beatriz shrugged, eyeing him for a few final moments. “A harmless one.” Cesari stared at her for several moments, following, finally curious to ask. “And who exactly would I be courting?” Her grin widened. “Me, obviously.” The silence that followed only lasted a heartbeat before Cesari burst into laughter. “You cannot be serious.” “I am entirely serious.” “My Lady, that is ridiculous.” “Which is precisely why it will work.” “It will never work.” “It absolutely will.” The two bickered back and forth before Beatriz finally called out his name. “Cesari!” The young knight groaned as Beatriz folded her arms triumphantly. By the time they reached the end of the market square, he still insisted the plan was absurd. By the time they reached the Alban Castle gates, he had begun considering it. And by the following week, the rumor had begun to spread. A harmless fiction they started themselves. A favor between friends. … The years that followed passed perhaps far more quickly than either had imagined. What began as a childish wager amidst the bustling market streets slowly blossomed into something far greater, weathering the demands of duty, distance, and the ever-watchful eyes of the courts. Though many might have expected a grand affair befitting both of their stations, the pair instead chose to exchange their vows quietly within the Duchy of Lorraine. Far from the spectacle of noble celebrations, it was a ceremony shared only amongst their closest kin and confidants. A moment they chose to keep to themselves. There, before DIEUN and those dearest to them, Cesari and Beatriz became husband and wife. Whilst the years had changed much, yet little at all. The knight remained steadfast in his devotion, and the envoy, no less determined in her ambitions, was now running for a mayoral position. If anything, they found themselves strengthened by one another, each serving as the other’s constant companion through triumph and hardship alike. Now, another chapter awaits them. Nestled within Beatriz’s arms rested the fruit of their union, their first child, a beloved daughter. RAQUELLE ADELAÏS ASHFORD DE SAVOIE ( @Lalosia ). Tiny fingers curled around her fingertip as curious eyes gazed upon a world still new and wondrous. The sight was enough to soften even the most burdensome of days, a reminder of all they’d built together since that fateful wager years ago. The wager that had once begun their tale had long since been forgotten, but the family it led to shall forever remain.

The mayoral candidate, BEATRIZ, grinned as she also received one of her own letters, which she personally penned by hand. "This shall be a most wonderful venture. Perhaps the tides shall turn in my favor, and even if not, I shall do as promised regardless of gaining the position or not. It is what any good, devout woman would do." She placed the letter upon her desk, continuing a pile of paperwork that involved other matters pertaining to her personal life.

Penned by, Lady Beatriz, Matriarch of House de Savoie "Harmony and Service" c. 2083 ... [!] The bells of the capital rang throughout the morning as servants, merchants, craftsmen, and nobles alike continued in their daily affairs. Amidst the bustle of Rittersburg, notices bearing the seal of House de Savoie and the Imperial Court would appear upon boards and street corners alike. TO THE DENIZENS OF RITTERSBURG… “For a few years now, I have been serving our empire faithfully. As an envoy, I have learned and crossed borders and seas in attempts to be of service to the Crown. As a newly appointed lady-in-waiting, I have had the most gracious blessing and opportunity to stand beside Her Imperial Majesty, being granted those quiet opportunities to witness triumphs and burdens that accompany governance. I also was recently wedded; I preferred my wedding in the presence of very few, only those I sought. As a newly made wife and soon-to-be mother, I have come to understand that the prosperity of a realm is not measured solely by wealth or walls but by the future its citizens and families it affords its inhabitants. Rittersburg stands as the heart of our empire; within her streets walk artisans, laborers, merchants, soldiers, clergy, and nobility alike. A city is not capable of flourishing when its people stand divided. We MUST seek not discord but cooperation. Not bitterness, BUT understanding. Not self-interest, BUT service. Therefore, after much prayer and reflection, I have decided to properly announce my candidacy for the office of mayor of Rittersburg. And, should the people place their trust in me. . . I pledge to govern Rittersburg with dignity, fairness, and absolute unwavering devotion to the common good of our people. I shall work to strengthen dialogue between the city’s guilds and institutions to support charitable works and public welfare, encourage trade and prosperity, and ensure our capital remains a city worthy of both the Empire and the generations that will inherit it. I do not seek this office for glory or personal ambition. I seek it because service is my duty and because I believe Rittersburg deserves a voice willing to listen before it commands. May GOD bless us in the days ahead, and may He have mercy and shed His most wondrous light upon Rittersburg for eternity." SIGNED, LADY Beatriz Ashford de Savoie Imperial Envoy and Lady-in-Waiting to the Empress of Man

✠ Discord & IGN Usernames: rabbitick | sanriu ✠ Full Legal Name: Beatriz de Bruges ✠ Age: 25 ✠ Residence (Must be within Rittersburg): Imperial Castle, Court quarters ✠ Provide a brief account (100-300 words) of your standing, trade, or service to your community, by which you claim fitness to represent and govern them as Lord Mayor: I have traveled across the Empire and beyond its borders; as a child, I grew up hearing tales of how my family was once used as a negotiation, leading me to find interest in diplomacy. I have spoken with citizens and paupers alike. Along with now serving faithfully beside her Imperial Majesty, which is a gift I have been most blessed with. Yet no duty weighs upon me heavier than the knowledge that the children of our generation will soon inherit the city we build today. If Rittersburg is to remain our empire's very beating heart, it must be governed with wisdom, dignity, and purpose. I wish to lead, and this capital deserves service. While I am a devout and pious woman, I am also a diplomatic envoy for our empire. I wish to bring more support to our churches and orphans, along with the public businesses such as taverns. Our faith should be a guiding star rather than dividing our neighbors further. ✠ Share the link to your campaign post (you must post separately on the forums!): MAYOR CAMPAIGN | "HARMONY AND SERVICE"

Uru rejoiced, though scarcely a fragment of the message reached her through the haze of whatever curse she inflicted upon herself this time. Though none of it mattered now, she cared little regarding prophecy and consequence. "The time has finally come..." she murmured, practically trembling. "I can already taste the crab... the fish..." A grin spread across the Tawantinsuyin girl's face as visions of the wedding feast consumed her thoughts. Platters drowning in butter, spices, and herbs; fire-roasted shellfish split fresh from the sea; and spiced broths rich enough to make the normal man weep. A thin line of drool fell from her maw before her dignity could recover.

Lady Beatriz paced about her chambers, quietly mumbling prayers, “DIEUN, guide his soul and allow him to repent, despite his wrongdoings..” as she recalled the feeling of watching the man impale himself and truly fall upon his blade. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, the only emotion she could muster to feel for the now deceased was pity. “DIEUN, please shed light on this lost soul..” She spoke just as she did at the place of his death, she’d repeat it over and over moving to her desk to pen a message and prayer in her journal.

URU erupted from that hut of Manqu, running out screaming, "I DID IT, I REALLY DID IT!!" She ran around the village courtyard dancing and rejoicing for the rest of the night.

ꕤ LEARNING TO BREATHE || ♬ [Pact to Lesser Immortal Spirit under, Ankrus] The wind quietly whistled as Uru stumbled into the hut of Manqu, the second Paqo of the Tawantinsuyin tribe that now resided in Qurisuyu village. Slumping down into a nearby corner, reaching deep into the pocket of her clothes, revealing a small pouch of cactus green. She smiled to herself as she glanced around the hut, her eyes fixated on the random splatters of blood, chiqtanas, and trophies that the shaman had collected on his own to adorn his walls with. Recalling the wisdom the elder shaman embedded in her, his voice ringing, “Uru, you are already wise. However, you must grow wiser to succeed. You shall one day take my place. To do so, you must further your knowledge.” - Manqu, Son of Manqu. [ OOC: IF YOU KNOW THE JOKE, YOU KNOW. ] The young Tawantinsuyin priestess brought the hookah up to her maw, watching the green leaves light aflame, smoke leaving from her parted lips as she calmed herself. Grasping at her wankar with open palms, she began rhythmically tapping upon it. THUMP.. THUMP.. THUMP.. Over and over again, the sound echoed from outside the hut, getting progressively louder, as if she were preparing for impending doom. Again and again, the sound echoed throughout the hut, loud enough to carry outside its walls. Each strike grew heavier, louder, as though heralding some impending doom. Uru closed her eyes, steadying her breathing to the rhythm of the drum. As the young priestess relaxed her senses, she slowly began to disperse from her very being. Sight was the first to leave her, plunging her into an endless sea of darkness while the sound of the drum gradually faded into nothingness. Uru continued to exhale slowly, maintaining steady breaths, until even her sense of smell temporarily abandoned her. Soon Enough, she could no longer feel the rough texture of the drum beneath her palms. Everything became blank. Though her body remained within the realm of the living, her senses had all but vanished. A familiar wave of impending doom washed over her, followed by a violent pull dragging her downward. She fell into a vast emptiness, suspended in endless freefall. Yet unlike her first journey, Uru remained calmer this time, though nervousness still lingered as she kept her eyes tightly shut while descending into the barren void. Eventually, the constant sensation of falling came to a halt. One by one, her senses returned in reverse. First came touch, the feeling of sand pressing between her fingertips and against her skin. Then the smell returned, salty water flooding her nostrils and replacing the lingering scent of cactus green. After that came sound, the muffled bubbling of sea creatures, and the shifting currents overtaking the once thunderous beat of the wankar. Finally, her sight returned. Uru opened her eyes only to recoil at the sudden burning sensation, quickly realizing she was resting upon the seafloor. At first, panic overtook her. She flailed wildly beneath the water, but soon enough, breathing became… easier. Confusion settled across her features as she stopped moving, holding herself still while glancing around beneath the ocean depths. Finally sitting upright, she remained quiet for a moment, eyes wandering curiously through the endless seafloor around her. Her hands quickly checked over her limbs, ensuring she was still whole and attached. “I did it…” “I’ve made it here myself… but where am I to go?” She muttered beneath her breath in disbelief. Her voice drifted outward into the vast waters. Brows knitting together, Uru slowly rose to her feet, seemingly dumbfounded by whichever realm she had wandered into. Her gaze shifted to the left, where enormous clouds of sand churned violently upward through the water. The disturbance clouded the sea around her, obscuring her vision. Then Niin-Kranklob made herself known. Not physically, at least not yet. A booming voice erupted through the waters, vibrating around Uru like thunder beneath the sea. … “GHASHN-LAB GRATUM SHARA.” (STATE YOUR PURPOSE, HUMAN.) The spirit’s tone was harsher than Uru had anticipated, causing her brows to furrow before she called back in response. Her words stumbled awkwardly from her tongue. She was far from proficient in the language, stuttering and mispronouncing several sounds. “URU-IZG, SK-SKAAT KHL-LAT GORRRR-LAT…” (I am Uru. I come to ask to work with you.) The spirit acknowledged it immediately. “LAT, HÛR LÛP KULÛK? NAAN, LAT GOLM NARASH?” (You dare ask for anything while offering nothing?) Uru hesitated. Then the spirit spoke once more. “LAT, PAASHNAR PUKHL, MOLKÛ GHUNG LAT DRAAGH-ÂMBAL LÛP DÂR - AGH LNÛRL PUHKL-MAAZ NIIN-KRANKLOB-IZG, GHÛLUM KRAMP-U.” (You cannot speak. However, if you build me a pretty shrine and learn to speak properly, I will help you and allow you to become a vessel of my power.) Tears began gathering in Uru’s eyes. “A-Akh… Uru-izg paash-draagh-âmmm…bal lûp dâr, agh lnûrl puhkl-ma…az…” (Yes, I shall build you a pretty shrine and learn to speak better.) … A faint smile settled across Uru’s expression as the spirit finally revealed itself. Niin-Kranklob emerged as a half-woman, half-anaconda with a massive ancaconda-like tail covered in shimmering blue scales and glowing eyes that pierced through the murky waters. The half-serpent flicked her tongue toward Uru before burrowing back beneath the sand, disappearing once more into the depths. As the stirred sand slowly settled around her, Uru lowered herself back onto the seafloor. Steadying her breathing, she clapped her hands together softly in rhythm. Once more, her senses slipped away. Again came the familiar freefall, though this time it felt comforting rather than terrifying. The sensation of being pulled upward through the emptiness no longer filled her with dread. Instead, it carried something almost warm, something familiar. Then, one by one, her senses returned. The walls of Qurisuyu village came back into view around her. Uru opened her eyes, a smile spreading across her face as she scrambled to her feet, already eager to prepare the shrine she had been ordered to build…

A flaxen-haired Beatriz de Bruges smiled as she gazed over the missive, tapping at her cheek as her eyes glossed over the words.

Nerine Wick stared as her father wrote the missive, she didn't understand it given she was young she just mindlessly nodded along.

Adelaide Emmeline hummed as the missive was received, a smile of pride embracing her lips. "The Church shan't find frightened lambs within Castle Waldemer.." She lifts her chin, drawing a slow breath. "The Ashford shall stand together as blood, and kin not as those reborn but as those who were chosen to walk in Saint Luciens' light." She then looked to her two children who laid in bassinets gently swiping a curl from her daughters visage. "You my darlings, shall live in a new era where the Church is of solid mind."

Adelaide Emmeline de Bruges read over the missive, an awry expression cascading upon her features, "Perhaps Julia and I's conversation held weight.."- "Though why is hath the Doverian Countess' name been mentioned, I presumed it'd been fixed perhaps I should reach out to inquire.." She mumbled, then ushering her Lady-in-wait to check on the children.

"My lady!" Exclaimed a handmaiden, who handed the missive to Adelaide Emmeline, frowned at the missive as she briefly scanned it. "I must go see the Archduchess," She said hastily running down the corridors of Waldemer. "Such trying times have fallen upon our Castle.." She spoke wearily.

Lucrezia Agnise the girlwho practically had been a ghost within the castle, rarely seen leaving her room only attended to by one hand maiden. Drifts into the courtyard, her steps as silent as the breath between prayers. She pauses in the shadow of an archway, watching her mother’s grief spill freely in the cold light. For a long moment she says nothing, her pale gaze unreadable. Then, in a voice low enough to be mistaken for the wind, she murmurs,“The Lord’s mercy is not lost to her… nor to us.” She does not move closer, only lingers there half in the world, half apart from it before slipping back into the dim corridors of the castle.

YAYYYY

"How thoughtful of her,” Lady Adelaide murmured, eyes lingering on the careful penmanship. With a soft hum, she rose from her seat, tucking the parchment against her chest. Turning to her handmaiden, she added with quiet warmth, “See to it I wear something soft and flattering. It is my sister-in-law's luncheon after all."

Lady Adelaide smiled as she read over the missive, moving a piece of stray hair from her visage as her hand-maiden brushed her hair. "Well deserved," She said calmly, though she spoke no further. Instead, she began to sketch ideas for a present to give to the newly appointed Head Steward as a gift.

Adelaide sat beneath the tall, arched window of her solar, the missive still unfolded across her lap. Candlelight caught the gold in her lashes as she looked up from the parchment, eyes glimmering with restrained fire. With a quiet exhale, she turned slightly toward her handmaiden, voice low but steady. "He speaks not with rebellion, but with remembrance. There is no treason in loving the Church as it was meant to be whole, unburdened by spite and faction." She paused, then smiled faintly. "Let them call it sedition if they must. I call it devotion. And I’d sooner have our gates opened to the persecuted faithful than to the wolves who would tear the saints from their own altars."

Adelaide de Bruges hummed lowly as she rocked the sleeping babe in her arms, her ears yet echoing with the din of courtly scorn. "Never shall thou hear of such insolence, mon amour," she whispered against the child's flaxen crown. "Let them drown in their own miseries, for the Lord's favor rests upon the House of Bruges, now and evermore..."

BY HIS GRACE ALONE, OUR WORD IS GIVEN Penned on the 14th of Sun's Smile, 2039 ☩ To those faithful under the light of God, O Lord of Light, bless this child born of vow and mercy. Guard their breath, Guide their steps, and let love follow wherever they go. Amen. __ With joy and gratitude, the House of de Bruges proclaims the birth of a healthy son to Lord Faustin and Lady Adelaide, soon after the solemnization of their union. The child, a gift of providence, arrived in the earliest days of their married life and shall be raised in the full light of noble tradition, bearing the name of his honored father. Prayers of thanks have been offered in the chapel of Castle Waldemar. After quiet deliberation, his name was chosen, the first belonging to his father, as is tradition, and the second drawn from a softened form of his mother’s middle name. A joining of lines, measured and deliberate, as he was. ✴︎ Faustin Emile de Bruges ✴︎ To those who offered kindness, spoken or unspoken, we are grateful. Your warmth did not go unnoticed. To those who whispered otherwise, do not trouble yourselves with congratulations. He is already far beyond the reach of small intentions. SIGNED, “The hidden sun burns still,” HIS EXCELLENCY, Faustin de Burges, Lord Vavasour de Bruges, Palsgrave of Drusco HER LADYSHIP, Adelaide of Artois, Lady Vavasour de Bruges, Underpalatine and Troubadour of Waldemar

Adelaide d'Artois shot her elder brother a glance, shaking her head as she moved a stray strand of her flaxen hair back into it's place. "Henri, I am not as far as you make it sound, n'agis pas comme un enfant." She said looking to the brunette with a glance of endearment. "Now be kind to Faustin the two of you shall be family soon."

Penned by Lady Adelaide of Artois and Lord Faustin 9th of the First Seed S.A. 2038 Thou art certain?” He asked, his voice low, his hand resting lightly at her wrist. Adelaide’s gaze did not waver. “I am,” she said. “And have been for some time.” No more was needed. The sky, heavy with twilight, bore witness as they stood together, still and solemn, yet sure. The sun, slipping behind the hills, cast its last light upon them like a benediction. Around them, the world hushed. There was no love of flourish or song, but one forged quiet and steadfast, like a flame banked against the wind. __ Faustin and Adelaide in Castle Waldemar, illustrated S.A. 2035, by Kaba Halcourt __ Into the garden where sun and silence shall meet, and two souls shall be bound together under the sacred rite. It shall be known to all realms and vassals near and far that Lord Faustin of Drusco and Lady Adelaide of Artois shall be declaring their union in matrimony, which will be sealed beneath God’s gaze and the laws of noble house and land. The ceremony shall take place beneath the setting sun, within the walls of Castle Waldemer, where lilies shall bloom and banners may fall in the twilight hues. Select vassals, allies, and companions are called to bear witness to this bond. ITINERARY I. NUPTIAL RITE Under twilight's hush, Lord Faustin and Lady Adelaide shall speak their vows before witnesses of kin, vassal, and companion. The exchange of words and tokens shall seal their bond, with blessings granted by those of faith and house elderhood. The air shall be heavy with solemnity, for such oaths are not made lightly. II. EVENTIDE REVERIE Following the rite, guests will be beckoned to the grand hall, its walls adorned with lilies, dusk-threaded silks, and banners of House de Bruges. There, a ball shall commence beneath candlelight and soft lantern glow. The couple shall be permitted to have the first dance before further festivities commence. Courtiers and companions alike may dance in honor of the union, whilst minstrels shall weave music to match the hour. III. THE CLOSING HOUR As candles wane and music softens, the couple will take their leave from the revelry. Guests are welcome to linger for final toasts, farewells, and whispered promises of diplomacy or political favor. SIGNED, “The hidden sun burns still,” HIS EXCELLENCY, Faustin de Burges, Lord Vavasour de Bruges, Palsgrave of Drusco HIS LORDSHIP, Charles of Montresor, Baron of Artois HER EXCELLENCY, Adelaide of Artois, Underpalentine and Troubadour of Waldemer

Adelaide read over the missive, slowly nodding as she sat by a candle. "Mayhap we truly have lost our faith. I see more faces during my promenades about Elizabeth than I see within the chapel halls for mass." She murmured. "Have we lost our way in the ways of faith as people? I dare not claim such, though it is hard to deny." She placed the missive down, glancing over at her wedding invitations, then moving to write a prayer on the back of each invitation. "The smallest detail could be something fruitful, and welcome God back into the lives of those who have strayed."