Eryane

Empress Anastasia offered a cheers to her fellow monarch and husband, Emperor Philip III, the Archchancellor, and the Baron and Baroness of Arichsdorf as the document circulated publicly. “Ave Orenia,” she chanted. @Fie@Narthok@Nectorist@Taketheshot

“This is no damn rumor!” a dame shouted from the seven skies, waving her Carrion Black around in anger.

Time is an inevitability; Once Anastasia had said, muttering these words to the Duke of Cathalon who went on to pass merely days later. There were always several people in her life whom she felt were eternal that this echoed phrase did not apply itself to, could not apply itself to. Among these great men one particular cardinal remained. Such a goodness and light within her life could not simply be removed, nor would it by the grace of God Almighty. How could a creator be so cruel to put a time limit on people such as him? In the mirror was a reflection of a woman, donning an onyx dress that cascaded to the floor. A dark, shaded headdress kept her hair pinned back from sight. The empress turned away, and walked down the hallway that led to the gardens. Although there were courtiers, it felt alone. The two guiding lights of her life had now moved on. Her two moral compasses, her two pillars. She had wondered if Cardinal Albarosa - Cardinal Providentia then - had known the influence he had always maintained in her life. His words, if condemning, were like daggers to the heart. Yet rarely were they, and instead in the name of peace in humanity. He was a symbol of true Canonism. He was all that Anastasia had been lectured over in that nunnery years ago, when she was a little girl. She was the man Sister Galina told her was the definition of a Canonist. And always, she admired him for it. Rare was it to see such a good man in such a dark world. Still could Anastasia see the pain of having her removed from the Church again and again. Yet sometimes, only sometimes, he would let her stay for the funerals of the subjects of the empire. For those, he did not stop her. In the final days she had seen him, Cardinal Francis looked only to hold pain in his eyes. The pain of a world that could do easily be at peace, yet found ways to always be in conflict. Anastasia turned again, and moved into the palatial chapel where she fell to her knees. “Please be at peace now, please be at peace..”

Festival of the Arts With the call to the arts in accordance to the most recent notice published by the Lady Chamberlain Odessa MacPherson, and the recent resurgence of the arts in all of the empire, the Aster Court thus announces the year-along festival of the arts that shall offer a variety of artistic lessons and events for the subjects of the empire to enjoy. These events are open to any and all who wish to participate, and it is the hope of the Aster Court that they bring much joyousness into the lives of Orenians and any others who desire to attend. It is asked that all begin to showcase their own talents, outside of these events, through playwriting, poetry, painting, dance, acting, sewing, etcetera. Timetable | I. Palatial Painting Lessons - 7pm EST Wednesday II. Flower Crowns in the Square - 7:30pm EST Friday III. Ballet Lessons from the Casimira Institute for the Physical Arts - 3pm EST Saturday IV. Masquerade of the Arts - 9pm EST Sunday The list above is subject to change as more events are added. If you are interested in hosting an event that pertains to your artistic field, please send a letter promptly to HIM Empress Anastasia I to have it showcased on the festival flier. This event may be auditions, exhibitions, showcases, lessons, etcetera. PALATIAL PAINTING LESSONS 7:00pm EST - Wednesday, March 2nd In the imperial palace of Aster Hall, Mister Giuliano Vitelli Falcone shall be hosting a painting lesson for any and all who wish to join and pick up a brush to learn. This lesson is for all skill levels from beginners to those who have painted for years! Wine and other beverages will be available for those in attendance. FLOWER CROWNS IN THE SQUARE 7:30pm EST - Friday, March 4th Hosted by Lady Eloise Helen O’Rourke, the children of the empire are welcome to join Lady Eloise as she conducts a small lesson in flower crown making in the square of the imperial city of New Providence. Parents are encouraged to come and join their children, and small beverages and snacks will be available to any who wish to come by and mingle. IMPERIAL BALLET LESSONS 3pm EST - Saturday, March 5th Men and women of all varying ages are invited to join TH Lady Coraline Antonia, Baroness of Carrington, amidst her lesson for the physical art of imperial ballet. Such will allow for attendees to learn the basics of ballet in an introductory course, with the event held in the halls of the imperial palace. Several talented attendees may be approached after the event, and be asked to audition or even join the Casimira Institute for the Physical Arts. MASQUERADE OF THE ARTS 9pm EST - Sunday, March 6th The Aster Court invites all to the imperial palace, in the upper throne room, for song and dance amidst a fine evening with music and revelry. For this masquerade, attendees are asked to wear their most extravagant outfits, or for seamstresses to showcase their finest, most exquisite works to be displayed throughout the evening as all join to dance. There will be one formal organized waltz, whilst the rest of the evening shall be open dancing. It is asked that all attendees wear a mask, as such is required for a masquerade!

In the eve, Anastasia returned to the imperial quarters after she had spent the day visiting various shops with the Archchancellor Joseph d'Azor, a courier lightly knocked upon her door. She had one of the handmaidens attend to it, and they left the poem he brought on the table near her bedside. Illuminated by a candle, and with the servantry gone, Anastasia lifted the parchment up as she had nearly forgotten to see what the courier had brought. The fine penmanship caught her eye at first glimpse, and she sat upon her bed to read further. Whoever had been hurt, whoever had wrote this in their grief, she had felt a small pain for them too. "Beautifully written," muttered she, as she looked to see who had signed the paper. "Perhaps a rising poet in the empire. I only hope that there is more. They express their feelings so elegantly through the written word."

Since her arrival to the empire at the age of seven, having spent years in the nunnery, Anastasia admired her grandfather. He came to the empire with only a few other Rutherns when the first Ruthern-Novellen betrothal was announced, and he remained even when it fell through. Perhaps he had grown to love the empire, perhaps it was the people, or all of it together. What kept him here, she hadn't known, but what she had known was his dedication and devotion remained stalwart no matter the difficulty ahead. Was it the Ruthern genes that kept him so strong, or his own personal sheer will to persevere? When the prince first arrived at the Ruthern manor, it had not been her parents - not Princess Helen nor Lord Viktor - who made certain to give the young imperial heir hell for trying his hand at marrying Anastasia. It was her grandfather, who interrogated him without any regard to his title and privilege, to his class. It meant nothing as her grandfather went on and on about the respect that should be shown towards Anastasia, how she was his equal; and it was there in that room that Prince Philip declared Anastasia would never be anything less than his equal, in all matters. And when both her parents passed, her mother murdered and father dead from a tragic voidal tear occurrence, it had been her grandfather who walked her down the aisle. When those of the imperial court questioned her traditional Raev attire, he made certain that she would remember what it was that made her: her family, her history, her culture. She remembered this as the men of the ISA poured into the cathedral in organized lines, stood at the ends of the pews, and rose their swords into the air as Anastasia walked by. As the years went on, never once did she question her grandfather's ability even in his older years for she had grown to respect him all the more as their relationship became far more work-oriented. She saw him from the perspective of the Imperial Crown, and he the General of the Empire. He served well, dutifully, and it was with him in her council that she felt some assurance of safety at all times for she knew that he would do anything for her. Without him now, there was an emptiness that would never be replaced. No longer did she have him in her corner for advice, or to straighten her up when she started to break. She would go on with time, but the emptiness without his presence remained. She knew the empire would feel that emptiness with her too.

WHY WE FIGHT The battle began after an elongated silence. Men of the empire, allies and all alike came together as one in the name of a common cause, against a common enemy. Among them, Sir Jarad Munnel manned a trebuchet. He shouted back to his crew, “Load the trebuchet! We take out one of theirs before we destroy the wall!” The boulder was loaded. Together, Dame Diana Vuiller and Dame Amelia Hughes were at the ready, waiting for what was to come. Would it be death, alongside their companions, in the name of their empire? “Ave Orenia,” someone said as if it were a prayer. Princess Catherine of Furnestock and Varon Draskovic loaded the trebuchet in preparation. “FIRE!” General Erik var Ruthern shouted as the trebs loosed a volley into the air. The flaming balls crashed against the walls of Sedan. The siege camp of Oren was filled with activity as crews maned their trebs. The entire 1st regiment of the Imperial State Army had set camp alongside the Free Companies of Oren, Blackvale and Ferrymen. Behind Sir Jarad stood Chloe de Rosius, an Orenian noblewoman — at the ready to die for taking the lands stolen from her and her fellow imperials. The Fidei Defensor, who had sided with the heathen dwarves, demanded answers. Now they would receive them. It was a rather gruesome scene watching trebuchet after trebuchet fall to the oncoming battery of their enemies. Across the field, another Orenian yelled out. “narn'acaele!” cried Minuvas Melphestaus, as a wave of arrows poured from the quivers of the Mali of the Ebonwood as their arrows plucked out the Valah and Bortu from atop their walls. A single row of Bortu fell from the walls as the arrows struck them between their armor. The purple velvet of the Princep's robes would flutter as he was handed a missive from an Imperial runner bearing orders from the ISA Headquarters. “Breach - on the right. All forces, attack!” The Princeps would tighten his hand, he might be sending some immortals to their deaths. Yet he would not forget the crimes of the Bortu King, allowing the Irehearts to come for his niece's ears - surely the Empire greater had more to the list of crimes, but to Minuvas - the King under the mountain was a criminal against Elvendom. For one, this was the first siege in the young imperial’s life. Cesar Komnenos saw the arrows fly, the sound of boulders smashing and crashing. There was nothing but the sound of pure rage of men fighting for their home land. He charged on, through the thick of the bloodshed. Nearby, Sir Mohammad Hassan cut into the dwarves with a singular arc of his longsword side by side with another knight of the empire and a doctor, Sir Arthur Komnenos and Doctor Primrose Gendik, who swung their swords valiantly into enemies of the empire. Amidst the fighting did one Hugo van Aert stand out with refined swordsmanship, unquestionable skill, that sliced through the heathen coalition forces as if they were mere butter whilst leading forces. After hours of bombardment the orders spread for a charge, General Erik held his arming sword which he had carried in so many fights before. “FOR THE EMPIRE!” The aged General shouted as he climbed the walls into the burning city. Another man only feet away from the general stared up at the ladders before him, hundreds of Orenians storming up them as the sounds of fighting rang out across the walls as smoke and soot raised into the sky from the fires already started within the city. The Archchancellor, Joseph d’Azor, had been here before, standing on the precipice of battle, decades ago when he had stood beside Iskander Basrid as the Orenian forces marched forth to dismantle the Nordling host which sought to invade Imperial lands. The Prince of Providence, Peter Augustus, ran alongside the first waves of men and women as they climbed the ladders towards the wall. Arrows jolted across the battlefield as the screams echoed across the battlefield. Once upon the wall, the mind was focused upon one thing and one thing alone – victory for the people of the Empire, her allies, and his family. He would charge towards a Haeseni soldier that had eyed him – his own blade striking first as blood would paint the Chestplate of the Prince. “FOR OREN!” He screamed as his own voice joined the hundreds of thousands. “FOR OREN! FOR OREN! FOR OREN!” Chloe de Rosius ran with the rest of them, some covered in sweat, some beaming from ear to ear proud they were fighting for their country, perhaps some of them for glory. With a glimpse to her left, she could see Princess Amelia of Renzfeld pursuing onwards with the others. It was a blur, difficult to distinguish one imperial from the other. Arrows whizzed to the walls of Sedan as people climbed to the top to fight in glorious blobs. Chloe had never felt more alive, or more fear of death, "OREN AUT MORTEM!" She shouted with the crowd. Imperials ranging from all backgrounds –all races, positions, ethnicities, statuses, cultures, and much more– had come together under one cause. A coalition had formed against them, stolen their land. And together, as one, they had taken it back. The medics rushed in, among them being the Lady Chamberlain Odessa MacPherson and a flurry of others, to swiftly assist the few injured. Yet even as the injured were gathered and the wounds were patched, a simple saying kept ringing: “AVE ORENIA! AVE ORENIA! AVE ORENIA!”

"Odessa!" shouted the empress from her imperial quarters. "Odessa! I am in need of dire assistance!" Anastasia blinked, rapidly so, amidst her shouting as she spotted one set of grey hairs after having set down the official wedding announcement. @tilly

ASTER HALL 10th of Godfrey's Triumph, 1860 ANNOUNCEMENT OF AN UPDATE IN THE IMPERIAL COURTS: Succeeding discussions amongst members of the Aster Council, the following changes have been made to the palatial offices of the imperial court; The Office of the Concierge now pertains to matters solely of: management of servantry and palace keys, etiquette, fashion, integration of new members into the court, and court education. This position is currently held by TH Lady Ioanna Basrid. The Office of the Intermediary now pertains to matters solely of: events (palatial, city and nationwide, and foreign), including the management and responsibilities previously held by the Office of the Revels. The Office of the Revels has been moved under the Intermediary (previously known as the Court Liaison). This position is currently held by HH Princess Vivienne of Savoy. The Office of the Chamberlain shall continue forth with its prior responsibilities as the second-in-command to the Imperial Crown (the head of court) in imperial court matters, and is the overseer and manager of all public and private events of the imperial family. This position is currently held by HE Miss Odessa MacPherson. Regarding Astercalia, it is in the interest of HIM The Empress and the Aster Council that the age of participation in debuting be changed to be between ages 18 to 30. Debuting is not solely for betrothals, and should instead be seen as a time for ladies to represent themselves, their culture, family, history, and a time to celebrate their official introduction to the imperial court. The Aster Court shall also be endeavoring upon a revival of the arts, where it is encouraged that all courtiers embark upon their artistic abilities. Such may include, yet is not limited to: poetry, needlework, painting, dancing (ballet), playwriting, acting, etcetera. Events shall be held accordingly to this, as per the abilities of the Office of the Intermediary. Their Imperial Majesties do decree the above announcement regarding the Imperial Furnestock & Auxiliary Households and the Palatial estates of the Imperial Crown, HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Philip III, Holy Orenian Emperor, forever August, King of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duke of Ves, Duke of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baron of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Anastasia I, Holy Orenian Empress, forever August, Queen of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duchess of Ves, Duchess of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baroness of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera

Empress Anastasia smokes a cigar and listens to a group of musicians from her office.

ASTER HALL 6th of Harren's Folly, 1859 ANNOUNCEMENT OF A NEW HOLIDAY TO CELEBRATE THE EMPEROR’S DECENNIAL JUBILEE: ST. JULIA’S DAY It is with great honor that the Imperial Household celebrates the 10th year of the reign of his Imperial Majesty Philip III as Holy Orenian Emperor. In honor of this occasion, Empress Anastasia sees fit to decree the creation of a new annus to venerate the mutual respect of their 23 year marriage and 10 year tenure as co-monarchs. This new holiday shall be given the name ‘St. Julia’s Day’ in commemoration of the wife of Exalted Horen, patron saint of mothers, matrimony and exorcism. Symbols of the holiday shall be: A red rose, a gift, a promise ring, an apple, and the spirit of St. Julia. Activities will act in accordance with these symbols. This holiday will be practiced around this time in the Saint’s Calendar. Let the year be joyous, full of love for the family, the spouse and the children. Their Imperial Majesties do decree the above announcement regarding the Imperial Furnestock & Auxiliary Households and the Palatial estates of the Imperial Crown, HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Philip III, Holy Orenian Emperor, forever August, King of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duke of Ves, Duke of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baron of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Anastasia I, Holy Orenian Empress, forever August, Queen of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duchess of Ves, Duchess of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baroness of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera

Empress Anastasia brought a cigar to her lips from within her office as she recalled the events of the evening. Again and again did she attempt to see that her would-be sister-in-law, the woman engaged to her youngest brother Konstantin, would denounce the treacherous actions of her sister and mother, to prove herself able to be brought into Orenian society again. She wanted to be merciful. She wanted to see the joy of her brother's marriage to that lady. She wanted to be an aunt to their future children, should they have desired a family of their own. Yet the fate of traitors and rebels were all the same. She puffed out the smoke.

“Duke Cathalon, might we speak?” “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty." Helton followed along quietly. When the door shut behind him he looked around the familiar room for a moment, before settling his eyes on the Empress. “Is everything alright, Your Imperial Majesty?” “Time is one of those undoubted inevitabilities that most refuse to speak on,” she began as she entered the imperial apartments, and kept the door open in respect for the Duke of Cathalon that followed behind her. Rarely had she had the private opportunity to speak with the duke, although she seemed to feel a sense of relief in his presence - for he seemed to be a good man. She had only known him as a friend, yet not on a level to be considered a confidant of his. She continued on, “Most of my companions would perhaps argue that I refrain from the topic of waning time, for it brings nothing but worry and concern rather than focus on the present, especially given the circumstances in which we are faced with.” Anastasia clasped her gloved hands together as she went on and on, with consideration of the inevitability of time and knowing that she too was on the ticking, ticking, ticking clock.“We must begin training the future generation of the empire. I ask that you take on a ward, and train them to greatness and glory so they may contribute their knowledge from you unto the empire.” “Teaching our young is… one of the most important things we can do. Thank you, Your Majesty. I had… something I'd like to discuss with you at some point,” He cleared his throat. “You'd said you wanted to retire, though. Another time, perhaps?” “Go on, do tell me.” “It's… a longer conversation, I wouldn't want to impose.” “Hmh. . Another time then,” she said as she began forth and opened the door for him. “Soon, though,” Anastasia offered what smile she could manage that was true and genuine. He returned it, and left the imperial quarters. Time was far more of an inevitability than she had imagined. That conversation that he desired to speak to her on would never take place. She would never see him, living, again. That was life, and there was nothing she could do yet recall the flashes of memories she shared with him, within the earliest hours of the morning when she could not sleep in her chambers. Still could Anastasia see the dancing and partying in the basements of noble manors, where she remained disguised to witness the hidden ongoings of the elite. There did she have a true, real conversation about the loveliness of life and all it had to offer, of the joy she received from dancing and all the like in between - the things that they reveled in that made the lowest moments worth muscling through. Anastasia laid her head down atop her arms, where they rested atop the railing of a balcony. She sighed, and whispered, “Time is one of those undoubted inevitabilities that most refuse to speak on.”

A woman of disguise removed her helmet for but a moment upon their return, as soon as they were ordered to return to Providence. Beneath it revealed the empress, Anastasia, as she let out a laugh and clapped a hand on the shoulder of Eugénie. “At least we got a little personal tour of that shack, no?” @sunflowerist

THE LAND OF TOMORROW To my dearest confidants and friends, the people of the empire, As I have risen from my illness, such having broken after several harsh months, I walked the streets of our beloved Providence only to be overwhelmed with a sense of nostalgia. This sudden rush of past memories are ones not directly from my own experiences of daily life, yet rather I was exhilarated by the remembrance of my dreams. As a child, I dreamed of an empire where cultures flourished and people expressed their individualistic identities equal to that of their Orenian nationality. A multicultural society, where the prominent culture of the capital coincided with Raev, Rhenyari, Kaedreni, and the hundreds of others. I dreamed of an empire where I did not feel ashamed of expressing my Raevir traditions and ancient familial history. Empires have risen and fallen, yet the strength of the people and what we build never fades. It shall never fade. I see it now as I walk the streets, as I converse with the people. To see a dream come to life is a magnificent thing that I hope that all who call themselves Orenian shall feel a multitude of times throughout their lives. Vividly can I recall being scolded for wearing the traditional wedding dress I donned on the day I was wed to the then Prince Philip Amadeus, or being requested to receive tutors to adjust my accent. Not once shall this occur during my husband and I’s reign, nor that of my son. The future grows brighter for the individual, for the families, for those who wish to express and cultivate their own customs and heritage. We live in unprecedented, ever-changing times amidst this empire. The work of our ancestors — their blood, sweat, and tears — shows now. Even women and men work equally side by side for the betterment of our empire. We cannot fail them now, and must continue their battle to glory and greatness. I shall always remember those who stood with me as I rose a cross into the air and cried out ‘rally the faithful’. I shall always remember the tears of those who chanted those same words, and marched for Providence together to Unification Bridge. I shall always remember us all united under one cause, and one hope: a better tomorrow. With each fight, no matter the outcome, we remain stalwart and grow stronger. We grow as a people, together as one, even as we endeavor in independent goals such as the prospering of these new imperial circles in the four regions beyond Providence. When one of us grows, we all grow a little more as one nation and one people. OREN AUT MORTEM, HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Anastasia I, Holy Orenian Empress, forever August, Queen of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duchess of Ves, Duchess of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baron of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera

THE IMPERIAL BETROTHAL of 1858 TO THE CITIZENS OF THE EMPIRE, It is hereby announced, by order of Their Imperial Majesties Emperor Philip III and Empress Anastasia I, that HIH The Prince of Providence and TH Lady Ioanna of Susa are to be wed upon the succeeding of the war. Such a marriage is to unite the Houses of Novellen and Basrid, and is to be held at a future date deemed proper by the Imperial family. ISSUED AND PROCLAIMED, HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Philip III, Holy Orenian Emperor, forever August, King of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duke of Ves, Duke of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baron of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera HER IMPERIAL MAJESTY, Anastasia I, Holy Orenian Empress, forever August, Queen of Renatus, Curon, Kaedrin, Salvus, and Seventis, Grand Duchess of Ves, Duchess of Helena, Novellen, Furnestock, Adria, and Lorraine, Baroness of Renzfeld, Protector of the Heartlanders, Orenian Highlanders, and Farfolk, etcetera

From her chambers where she began to endure a long recovery from her illness, Empress Anastasia I received word of her councilor’s passing. With that, she sent a servant out to order candles be placed throughout the palace in her honor.

Empress Anastasia smacks away a fly with the rolled up missive - then tossing it away in the fire. “So, Your Imperial Excellency, how has your day been?” She inquired of the Archchancellor while reaching for her cigar.@Taketheshot

Empress Anastasia I yawned as she read such a document by a courier. “At least he’s creative, I suppose,” she shrugged, and moved on with her day.

Empress Anastasia I refined her best dancing skills. @Nectorist

“I will not take your bribes!” shouted the Empress Anastasia from her office, which was likely echoed throughout that portion of the palace and into the imperial gardens. She promptly rolled up the gossip missive and whacked him over the head.

Word reached the empire swiftly of the pontiff’s death. In spite of their few, unpleasant interactions to one another given the past few years as well as his accusations, Empress Anastasia I bowed her head in silence for some time nonetheless. He was still a faithful Canonist, and deserved a peaceful rest.

Empress Anastasia I sipped her wine as she looked over the document, having added her signature not long ago.