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BritA7Xmetalhead's Journal
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READ PLEASE!!!!
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November 29, 2008, 04:17:pm
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The Curse of Power
By Brittanie Ricciuti
The satin robe pressed against the mage's body as a gust of wind whirled around the cliff. He was unaccustomed to such finery; it felt strange, out of place with his rugged upbringing. Maybe I could keep it, once this is over, he thought to himself. One for me and one for my father. His father, he was the reason the mage was here, about to commit an act he knew was wrong. Taking a deep breath and a quick glance at his surroundings, the mage turned around and walked swiftly into the forest, determined once again to do what must be done.
* * *
“What is the status of the ships, Assenian?” A yawn escaped the young lord's lips, betraying his boredom to all in attendance. A short, balding servant inched forward with a piece of parchment unraveled in his withered hands.
“They should arrive in three days time, my lord.” His voice didn't show any hint of the servant's fear. Good man, getting braver each passing day. Such a thing is necessary in a court like mine.
“Let's hope they do, for your sake, Assenian.” There, let him wonder a bit.
A faint whisper rippled through the crowd. Standing up, the young lord dismissed everyone with a nod, then disappeared through a door behind his chair.
* * *
“Mother, I grow tired of all these meetings. All they accomplish is allowing all the windbags to gloat and squabble amongst themselves. Must I go to another one?” The young lord lounged on a blood red velvet couch bed underneath the window. He was in his mother's quarters. Lady Julya, his mother, was seated across the room with a book resting on the lap of her emerald green dress. For a woman nearing her forties, Lady Julya appeared barely a day older than her son.
“Yes Dayce, you must go. As lord of this land, it is your obligation to oversee the meetings, as it was your father's and his father's before him.” Lady Julya let out a sigh and examined her only son. She wished she could give him the simple life he craved. He resembled his father so much that it was frightening. Dayce's pallid, slightly round face was framed by soft mahogany hair that flowed past his shoulders in gentle waves. In the sunlight, his hair showed hints of her deep red color. Though his eyes were shut, she knew his eyelids hid his sapphire eyes, eyes that would make any girl fall instantly in love with him. Dayce's body was built differently than the late Lord Daniel's. While Lord Daniel was of short height and roundness of the tummy, his son was slender and tall, at six-foot-two. The boy's body was taking shape of a trained warrior, a result of tireless hours on the training ground. At age twenty, Dayce was a fierce swordsman, but like any young man, was not fond of any of the duties that accompanied his being a lord.
“Fine, but can't we at least make them shorter?” Dayce knew the chances of such a thing were slim, but it didn't hurt to ask.
“I'll talk to the chamberlain, but I wouldn't get your hopes up son.” Lady Julya closed her book and floated over to the door. Glancing back at her son, she smiled. “Dayce, why don't you go to the weapons master to see about a new sword?” Dayce perked up at his mother's suggestion.
“Good idea, mother. I do need a new dagger, my other one broke in practice two days ago.” He followed his mother out of the room and made his way down the Master Antilli's office.
* * *
The mage pried open the chest in from of him. He conjured a ball of light to examine its contents, for the cave was dark even at midday. Inside was the newly forged crown that was to be given to King Padraig as a gift from Lord Dayce, a recent ally from the Pravian Province. The man that approached the mage wanted King Padraig dead. The mage didn't ask why, he just took the money from the man and started consulting his spell books. Reaching into his robes, the mage pulled out an obsidian blade that was gift from his last contractor. He set a stone bowl next to the chest and lifted the out crown, placing it on the cave floor. The mage pulled back the sleeve on his right hand and slashed his wrist, catching the blood in the bowl. Once the bowl was full, he smeared it on the bottom of the crown, reciting the spell he had concocted last night. Permissum is flos addo nex ut quisquam quisnam locus is super suum caput capitis. Let this crown bring death to anyone who places it upon their head. He concealed the blood with another spell before he returned the crown to the chest. He cleaned up the mess and healed his wrist. Calling to his assistant Lawler, he instructed the boy where to deliver the chest. The mage's task was done. Now all he had to do is wait for the spell to take hold of King Padraig and he would get his father back and they would be rich. The mage curled up in a corner of the cave, not before setting safety wards around him. He wouldn't want his contractor to kill him now that he had fulfilled his purpose.
* * *
Master Antilli's office was one of Dayce's favorite parts of their estate. It was dully lit and made entirely of balau wood. Tacked on the walls were sketches of weapons, armor, and fighting stances. The center of the office was a ring that was used for sparring, a place that Dayce had grown to love. Master Antilli was seated behind his desk, also made of balau wood. His head was down, focused on the drawling before him. The only sound in the room was the scratching of Master Antilli's quill. Dayce approached quietly, hoping to finally be able to sneak up on the hardened weapons master. Keeping to the shadows, Dayce was only a few feet from Master Antilli when the man's head popped up, fixing his eyes on Dayce.
“My boy, you are getting better, but I heard your breathing when you got closer. I thought I told you to always breath slowly through your nose, not your mouth like a gapping fish.” Master Antilli put his quill down and motioned to the chair in front of his desk.
“Sorry, Master. I'm learning.” Dayce plopped down on the chair, aligning his spine with the back of the chair.
“What can I do for you, my lord? We don't have any training scheduled for today.”
“I was wondering if you had a dagger that I could have? I sort of broke the other one when I was sparring with Kearney the other day.”
“My boy, you are too reckless when you fight. But yes, I have another one for you.” Master Antilli got up out of his chair and went into his weapons closet. A few minutes later he emerged with a curved silver dagger that was just longer than Dayce's hand. It's leather sheath was embroidered in dark green stitching. He handed the blade to Dayce. “This was one of my own blades when I was an apprentice. It's name is Iestyn. Take care of it.” Master Antilli thought of Dayce as a son. He was never able to have children of his own since his duties prevented him from even taking the time to court of woman, much less marry her.
“I will cherish it, Master.”
“I know you will, boy. Now, what is this I hear that you've decided to make peace with King Padraig?” Master Antilli waited for the young lord's answer. Hopefully the boy was smarter than his father had been.
“I want to avoid any unnecessary war.” Dayce twirled his new blade in his hand, weighting it. “I don't even see why we were enemies in the first place. I mean, Pravia wants the same thing that King Padraig wants, peace and wealth. So I extended a bid of friendship with Fillica.”
“I hope that this will not blow up in your face, my lord. Fillica and Pravia have been enemies for over five hundred years. A drastic change like this will most likely not be met without resistance.”
“My father used to say that great things don't come without some sort of sacrifice.” Dayce stood and tucked the dagger into his left boot. “I will see you tomorrow, Master, for more training.”
“I look forward to it, my lord.” Dayce left his weapons master to finish his drawings.
* * *
It had started raining when Dayce was in his study, discussing his upcoming trip to Fillica. Ritchell, the chamberlain, was saying something about the trip taking a week and that be will be leaving once the chest arrives, but Dayce heard none of this. He was gazing out the window, watching the people in the courtyard scramble for cover. The sudden downpour was only braved by the children of other members of his court. He heard himself laugh when he saw them playing in the mud. He wanted to join them. He missed the days before his father had died, the days when he could play with his best friend Tivon. Such things were impossible now, Tivon was now a stable boy and Dayce his master.
“Dayce, sweetie, please pay attention. All this is quite important for your survival.” His mother grabbed his chin and pointed it in Ritchell's direction. Dayce gasped when he saw a look of disgust on Ritchell's face. Dayce knew the chamberlain didn't like him, but that didn't mean he could openly show contempt for his lord.
“What were you saying, Ritchell?” Dayce snapped at him. The man's eyes narrowed at Dayce's challenge. Ritchell did not look like a chamberlain. He was dressed finely, as if he was a lord himself. The man's closely cropped black hair rested on top of his square-shaped face. His skin was naturally tan. While he was shorter than Dayce, he projected himself with more poise and power than Dayce had ever been capable of. He hated that man. Dayce's hand ran over the dagger hidden away in his boot. Let him give me a reason to carve that smile off of his perfect face.
“I was saying, while you were too busy watching water fall from the sky, that your mother will not be accompanying you. I also said that you will travel with a small group of men, but we would prefer to keep Master Antilli behind with us to put down any rebels that attempt to take your seat. Also, the shipment with the chest is almost here. It will be here tomorrow, earlier than expected.” Ritchell reached out to pluck a grape out of the bowl on Dayce's desk. Dayce seized his arm mid-air, applying a small amount of pressure to his arm.
“No, Antilli will be coming with me. My mother can choose for herself. You may have forgotten, but you are here in her graces, not mine, but I am the lord of this land, not her and certainly not you. You disobey me or my mother in any way, I will hurt you. You overstep your position, I will hurt you. You look at me in disgust again, which I see all too often, I will slice you with my blade. Now, get out of my sight.” Dayce released his arm and the chamberlain fell back into his chair. Ritchell's mouth twitched, as if he was going to say something, but instead he stormed out of the room.
“That was completely unnecessary, Dayce.” Lady Julya scolded her son. She gave him a kiss on his forehead the left Dayce alone in his study.
* * *
Ritchell ripped down a tapestry from the wall as he neared his quarters. Insolent little boy. He has no idea what he is doing. I should have killed him when I killed his father. Now I have to wait for King Padraig to strike that whelp down. He wrenched open his door to see Lady Julya had used the secret passageway into his room. He closed the door and reached out for her hand. She touched his cheek before pressing her lips to his.
“I'm sorry about my son. I fear he suspects us.” She rested her head on his shoulder. He planted a gentle kiss on her neck, causing her to shiver in his arms.
“No, my beauty, he can not know. We've have been too careful. Even if he did, he can't stop us.”
“You don't know my son, Ritchell. He's smarter than you think.”
* * *
Assenian knocked on Lord Dayce's bed chamber door; a letter in his hand from King Padraig that had just arrived by express courier.
“What is it?” Lord Dayce's groggy voice resounded from inside.
“A letter, my lord, from King Padraig. It is of great importance I am told.”
“Come in then, Assenian.” Assenian gently opened the door to the nearly pitch black room. Lord Dayce was lighting a candle on his desk, the candlelight flickering off of his bare chest. Sleep still hung in his eyes. This is definitely the man we need in charge to make peace with Fillica. He held out his hand and Assenian placed the rolled up parchment in his lord's hands. He watched as an expression of surprise exploded on Lord Dayce's face.
* * *
Dayce's hand quivered as he reread the letter.
Dear Lord Dayce, son of Lord Daniel, Lord of Pravia,
I am looking forward to meeting you after so many years of our provinces warring. While I am hopeful that your visit and gifts will be a testament of your new loyalty, my countrymen need more of an assurance. To resolve this, I am officially extending to you my only daughter's hand in marriage. If you accept my proposal, the wedding will be held a day after you arrive at my castle. Please send a reply immediately. I hope your decision is the right one.
Your Royal Highness,
King Padraig Merrisson IV
Marriage? I don't even know this princess. But I can't turn King Padraig down, not this close to peace.
“Assenian, tell the courier that my answer is yes. I am to marry the crown princess of Fillica in a few days time.” Once Assenian was out of the room, Dayce curled back underneath his warm covers, picturing his soon-to-be wife.
* * *
The news of Lord Dayce's future marriage spread through the castle, reaching Lady Julya and Ritchell before sunrise. Lady Julya was consumed with great joy upon hearing that her only son was to marry a princess. Ritchell had a different take on the situation. This new twist put a damper on his plans to kill the king. He told the Lady Julya that he was sneaking off to make sure Lord Dayce was not met by an resistance, but his intentions were quite the opposite.
* * *
The carriage jerked to a stop just outside Fillica Castle. Dayce's heart skipped a beat when he realized his trip was over and he would be meeting his new wife in just minutes. The driver opened the door for Dayce, stepping aside so he could hop down. The castle was more majestic and beautiful than he ever imagined. It was made of white marble, towering over him with four turrets garbed in blue fabric. The doorway was pulled open, revealing lines of men with shined armor waiting for him, their future king. After instructing Assenian to bring his belongings and the chest containing the present, Dayce braved the crowd before him. At the end of the walkway was King Padraig. He towered over Dayce with arms bigger than Dayce's head. He had a closely cropped gray beard and fine combed gray hair. He wore robes of blue and silver satin, his hands bore rings with jewels Dayce had never seen before. To his left was the princess. Ianthe was small and dainty in every way but she held herself up as a goddess would. Her blonde hair fell like rays of sunshine down to her waist. The top of her head was encircled by a crown of violets. She wore a floor-length dress of deep purple and silver. Dayce could not believe that this goddess was to be his wife.
“Lord Dayce! How kind of you to grace us with your presence. Come! Come here, my boy! There is no need to be a stranger. You are soon to be family.” The king's voice boomed over Dayce's thoughts of his daughter. Dayce accepted the King's arm and was led inside the marble castle. Princess Ianthe followed slightly behind them, silent as they talked about the upcoming ceremony.
“So, I am told you were trained by the great Antilli himself. Is it true, my boy?” King Padraig questioned his future son-in-law over dinner. Plates of pure silver sat in front of them, each containing a small feast that would satisfy Dayce for days.
“Yes, your highness, Master Antilli is quite an adequate teacher. I train with him at least four times a week, though my training was put on hold for this trip. He requested to stay behind, but you can meet him in due time.” Dayce's finger ran over Iestyn still resting in his boot. He had begun to be comforted by it's presence while in his former enemy's castle.
“That is good to hear, my young lord. I want a great man to marry my only daughter and I feel that you are most definitely the answer to that worry. Now, I am aware that you have brought me a gift of a new crown, am I not correct?” The king stuffed a piece of boar in this mouth.
“Yes, my king, you are correct. Would you like me to send for it?” Dayce motioned for Assenian to come to him from where he was standing with the other servants.
“No, that will not be necessary. Instead of me having it, I would like you to keep it and wear it as king when I die, symbolizing the merger of Pravia and Fillica.”
“Yes, your highness. I will do as you say.” A small smile showed on Dayce's face when he realized that he would one day be a king. King! My father never imagined that his son would eventually become king of his enemies. I hope he and my mother will be proud.
* * *
Ianthe listened intently as her father and her betrothed talked of the future. She was pleased with her father's decision to offer her hand to Lord Dayce. He was much more handsome than her other suitor, Duke Fulton of Kimson, who was more than twice her age. Lord Dayce to the contrary was a few months younger than her. I can see myself growing old with him. I don't feel an ounce of hatred toward him. He's perfect. I can't wait to stare into those eyes on our wedding day. My hand bound to his with the marriage ribbon. The day cannot come soon enough. Tomorrow, I will be his and he will be mine. Who knew that peace would be so rewarding? Lord Dayce turned his attention to Ianthe as her father prattled on about horses and her dowry. Even from across the table, Ianthe was drawn to him. If she wasn't such a lady, she would jump the table and kiss him right there. Instead of making a mockery of her father, she simply sheltered her eyes from Lord Dayce's gaze. She knew she wouldn't be able to bear such lust much longer before giving into it. She had to get out.
“Father?” King Padraig stopped talking at the sound of her buttery voice.
“Yes, my darling?”
“I am going to retire to my room now, if you will allow me? I wish to get at much sleep as I can for the big day tomorrow.” Ianthe wished she could take Lord Dayce with her, nestle him into her bed.
“Of course, my darling. I would expect nothing less.” Her father and Lord Dayce stood when she rose from her chair.
“May I say goodnight to my bride, your highness?” Lord Dayce directed all his charm to the king.
“Yes, my boy, but only a minute.” The king returned to his seat on waved them out of the room. Lord Dayce offered her his arm and guided her out into the hallway. Once they were alone and out of earshot, Lord Dayce brushed her right hand with his lips.
“Are you happy with this arrangement, my princess? If you are not, I will decline.” A gasp escaped Ianthe's mouth at the prospect of letting him leave.
“No, Lord Dayce. I am quite happy with my father's choice of suitors.” His hand felt warm against her normally ice cold skin. He lifted his head to show a crooked smile. Is this creature of beauty really to be mine tomorrow?
“You may call me Dayce, my princess. As you wish, tomorrow we will be joined together.”
“Yes, I do wish. I also wish for you to call me Ianthe. It's only fitting.”
“Of course, Ianthe. Now I must get back to your father before he suspects that I have run off with you. Good night, Ianthe.” He once again kissed her hand. She felt empty once he let her go and disappeared into the banquet hall.
“Good night, Dayce.”
* * *
In the grand guest room, Dayce was pacing back and forth, looking at the crown resting on the bed. He couldn't get Ianthe out of his head. Assenian was readying his bath so he was alone with his thoughts. Only the crown remained. He didn't want it. It wasn't meant for him. The king refusing his gift hurt his pride a little until he realized that the king was giving him his daughter. The sweet Ianthe. How he wanted to take her right there. He glanced out the marble window. At least the rain has stopped. It would be such a pity for a beauty like Ianthe to be wed under gloomy skies.
“My lord, your bath is ready.” Assenian had entered the room.
“Thank you, Assenian. You are a loyal servant. I am sorry if I have treated you badly in the past.”
“You have never, my lord. My former liege was a cruel man who beat my mother and killed my father so I am more than happy to be in your service now, not his.” His loyal servant bowed. Assenian avoided Dayce's stare for the tears of both happiness and sadness began to fill his eyes.
“In that case, Assenian, I am glad to have you in my service. Now, where's this bath of mine?” Dayce burst into a fit of laughter as Assenian turned red at his compliment.
“The third door on the left, my lord.”
* * *
Ritchell stopped his horse at the town of Harcian which was half a day's hard ride to Fillica castle, for a rest before confronting and hopefully killing the thorn in his plans, Lord Dayce. In the room he rented from a barkeep, Ritchell applied a poison to his small steel blade, Fane. First, it will sting, then his skin with begin to boil around the cut. The poison will enter his bloodstream, rendering him paralyzed. It is then I will carve out his heart and place it in Assenian's room. Only then will Julya truly be mine. I will become the new lord of Pravia. I don't need a kingship. The boy will pay for his loose tongue.
* * *
“Time to wake up, my lord. It's your wedding day.” Assenian pulled open the drapes, dousing Dayce in sunlight. Dayce untangled himself from the blankets and stretched.
“You may go, Assenian, I'd like some time alone to think.”
“As you wish, my lord.” Assenian bowed himself out of the room as Dayce walked over to the open window.
Fillica is even more breathtaking that I had originally imagined. Dayce thought was he leaned on the marble ledge. The sight below him was indeed beautiful. The room overlooked the wide, green Callis River that sat at the bottom of Fillica Valley, pine trees lining the river's edge. A bridge made of black marble protruded from the base of the castle, crossing the cliff below to the other side of the valley. It was the perfect day for a wedding. Not a cloud in the sky. He wouldn't let anything ruin this day for him and Ianthe.
Turning away from his window, Dayce pulled on a thick robe to hide the goosebumps growing on his body. I wish my father was here. Dayce rolled back over in his bed and fell asleep.
* * *
“Sir! You have to see this!” A page busted into Master Antilli's office, jerking his attention away from the reports in front of him. The look on the page's face was the look of death.
“What is it, my boy?” Antilli strode over to the boy and put his hand on the trembling page's shoulder.
“This, sir.” He held out a half-charred letter. Antilli's face flushed in anger as he poured over the words. It was a letter from the chamberlain to a relative saying how he was going to kill Lord Dayce at his wedding and take Lady Julya as his bride.
“Get my horse and our best soldiers at once.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Once I leave, inform Lady Julya of this treachery.
* * *
Ritchell slipped into the city virtually unnoticed. Everything was buzzing with anticipation of Princess Ianthe and Lord Dayce's wedding later that day. Girls were twittering about how they wished they were Princess Ianthe while men were dreaming of becoming the princess's husband. The air of peace and lighthearted fun churned Ritchell's stomach. This will all be over later when my knife cuts that little bitch. Peace is for weak dreamers. Ritchell waded through the crowd at the wedding alter in the center of the city. Now all I have to do is wait.
* * *
The day went by in a blur and before everyone knew it, it was time for the wedding. A crowd as far as the eye could see was gathered in the courtyard. Dayce hated big crowds. His hands felt wet as he walked to the alter surrounded by his guards. Whispers exploded in the crowd as he walked past. He caught snitches of the conversations.
He looks a bit young, hopefully the king won't die soon.
King Padraig is making a mistake by letting that Pravian brat into our kingdom.
How do we know he won't attack us in our sleep?
An apple hit Dayce on his right cheek. His guards stopped him and two dived into the crowd in search of the culprit. It was then that the crowd surged forward and Dayce was lost in the gaggle of people, ripped away from his guards. Suddenly, Dayce caught a glimpse of Ritchell. His face was contorted in rage and a blade was in his left hand. Dayce dropped to his knees and pulled out his knife tucked in his boot. A woman jostled in front of Dayce, shouting in some language his didn't recognize. When his line of vision was clear, Ritchell was gone. Someone grabbed Dayce's shoulder and spun him around. It was Ritchell.
* * *
Ianthe peered out her window, hoping to catch a quick glance at her husband-to-be only to see the chaos unfolding below. People were crawling on top of each other, some brandishing weapons while others were just screaming wild insults. She could pick out a few of Lord Dayce's guards but there was no sign of Lord Dayce himself. Ianthe ran to her door and called for the first soldier she encountered.
“Get out there now! There's a riot happening! Find my betrothed and bring him back alive!” She screamed hysterically. The soldier bound down the hallway, leaving her to slide down the walk and curl up in a ball. She didn't care if her dress got dirty, she only cared that she saw Lord Dayce alive again.
* * *
When King Padraig's soldiers had finally cleared the courtyard, the ground was littered with dozens of bodies. They found Lord Dayce standing over once corpse in particular, a black haired man dressed in traveling clothes. Lord Dayce's hand was covered in blood, the man's blood. He was silent as the soldiers took the blade out of his hand and led him back to the castle.
* * *
Dayce was brought back to reality when a body in white crashed into his chest when he entered King Padraig's study. The arms around him belonged to the beautiful Ianthe, his bride. Ignoring her father's presence, he tilted her chin up to his and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She broke into tears at the sight of his bloody hand.
“Are you hurt?” Her eyes held a look of terror for his safety.
“No, my sweet.” He took her by the hand and sat in front of the king's desk. King Padraig was staring at Dayce with a mixture of compassion and admiration. He didn't seemed to be ashamed or angry that Dayce had just kissed his daughter before they were wed.
“I think it was a mistake to have such a public ceremony.” King Padraig broke the silence that had started to envelop the room. Dayce looked up from where his head was rested in his hands and just nodded in agreement.
“I'm tired, your highness, may I retire to my room?”
“Yes, but first, do you know the man you killed?”
“Yes, it was my chamberlain, Ritchell. He was trying to kill me. I knew the man didn't like me, but I never thought he would want to kill me.” Dayce was struggling to control his breathing. He was desperate to get his enemy's blood off of his body. “I am glad he his dead.”
“You will be a good king, my boy. You do things yourself. You may go. Come to me when you wake so we can discuss our course of action because it is clear that the alliance between Fillica and Pravia will not be accepted with ease.”
“As you wish, your highness.” Dayce stood up and withdrew from the room, leaving Ianthe with her father.
* * *
The mage was at the spot that he was supposed to met a man to get his father back. The sound of the riot above in Fillica had faded away. He was leaning against one of the pine trees lining the Callis River. He was muttering to himself, casting his protection spells stronger as he waited. Soon he was joined by a man on horseback that resembled the man who paid him to curse the crown.
“Hello sir. Where is my father?” The mage sensed that something was wrong.
“He is dead. His life was tied to the life of my brother and now my brother is dead.”
“No! That cannot be! He promised!”
“I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to kill you now.”
“No...no...no.” The mage backed up behind the trees and dived into the forest. The man on horseback was too fast for him. As the sword pierced his back, the mage recanted the spell he put on the crown, giving it luck to the wearer. Here I come father. I hope you aren't disappointed in me. The last sight the mage saw was rain clouds rolling over the trees above him.
* * *
When Master Antilli entered the city of Fillica, he was met by scores of people cleaning up a mess. Blood was in the streets and sobs could be heard on every corner. Taking in the bedlam around him, he kicked his horse into a hard gallop and left his soldiers behind. After questioning one of the villagers, he learned that Lord Dayce was still alive and that the wedding was postponed. It took him nearly an hour to wade through the people to get to the castle, reaching it at nightfall. He was escorted inside to await King Padraig and Lord Dayce.
* * *
Ianthe was asleep in her room, devoid of any dreams. She didn't hear when her door opened. Nor did she hear the footsteps approaching her bed. She barely yelped when the weathered hand covered her mouth and bound her hands with rope, placing a thick gag in her mouth. Ritchell had taught him well when it came to sneaking around. He placed a fake note on the bed, indicating Lord Dayce in the kidnapping. It would only be a matter or time before Padraig declared war on Lord Dayce. His brother was avenged and he had claimed a prize.
* * *
It was in fact only a matter of hours before King Padraig declared war on Pravia. The servant that found the note reported the incident to Master Antilli, allowing Lord Dayce time to escape the castle. Word spread throughout the land that the two enemies were now calling for troops for battle. Lord Dayce knew the only way to solve this conflict was to find Princess Ianthe himself, but he couldn't abandon his people. The morning of the fifth raid upon Lord Dayce left the estate in ruins and Lady Julya dead. When the sight of his mother's body filled his vision, Lord Dayce threw himself into the center of the fighting, catching an arrow in the heart. It was only when Lord Dayce was in the ground that Princess Ianthe was returned to his father. The crown that was intended as a gift was melted and fashioned into a necklace for Ianthe, reminding her daily of the man she was supposed to marry. She never did marry another, claiming that she would rule solely after her father died. The beloved land of Pravia was sucked into Fillica and Ianthe established a holiday every year, marking the date of her beloved's death.
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New account
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August 25, 2008, 12:05:pm
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I've made a new profile because I'm sick of my username. I'll leave this account up for like a week or so, but go check out my other one if you want. It's still underconstruction.
Decayingrose
http://vampirefreaks.com/decayingrose
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Hehe
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August 23, 2008, 01:16:pm
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Yay
Got a concert to go to tonight
Finntroll/Warbringer/World Lost/Nefarious
I'm interviewing John Kevill of Warbringer
I also got the new (not yet released) Iced Earth CD last night.
Mood: excited
Music: Warbringer-Combat Shock
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Incite
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August 18, 2008, 10:21:pm
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This band is badass. Clicky
Music: Incite-Army of Darkness
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Happy Birthday to me
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August 17, 2008, 07:39:am
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Happy Birthday to me
I'm 20 now
I'll be gone all day at Great Adventure with Reid
yay
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