- Joined
- Jan 8, 2020
Power. Speed. Bodies at their physical peak even beyond that of other vampires, movements faster than the eyes could see, feats of strength that made those of lesser blood pale in comparison and a haughty pride that went along with it. Blessed by the sun. Prideful, glorious, a bloodline gifted with grace and strength. Through them flowed raw power, physical perfection given the form of walking Gods. The kingdom of Arunika was their home, a land of rolling hills and ancient castles where mighty armies trained to protect the royal family of De La Cade. Those of the Solnesvet bloodline were said to be fearless, charismatic leaders loved for their commanding presence, admired for the bold example they set as they led from the front. Deviousness was abhorrent, subterfuge a concept with no word in their language and to take a single step backwards in battle was far worse than any defeat in the emerald green eyes of their people, eyes that shone with the soft glow of the early morning glade as met by the sun.
Beauty. Charm. Cunning. Minds that could twist and turn in so many ways that other vampires couldn't match their guile in a thousand human lifetimes, silver tongued and seductive beyond compare, scholars, artists and diplomats that could turn any to their cause with a soft touch, a gentle sigh and a whispered word. Blessed by the moon. Mischievous, deceptive, a bloodline gifted with elegance and perception. Through them flowed gifts other bloodlines had long since lost, captivating gazes that could transfix even the strongest of wills, beguiling words and delicate manipulation of desires given the form of beautiful sirens. The kingdom of Jacira was their home, a land of moonlit garden, enchanted forests and crystalline lakes where creatures not human or vampire span their webs of fey pleasures under the watchful eye of the royal family of De Moion. Those of the Lunnesvet bloodline were said to be cunning yet compassionate leaders loved for their peaceful approach and patronage of the arts among their people, admired for the diplomatic way they encouraged the growth of their bloodline. Brutality was abhorrent, savagery a concept with no word in their language and to solve a problem with force that could be solved with diplomacy was far worse than to succumb to it in the pale amber eyes of their people, eyes that glowed with the soft light of the full moon as it crested a clear night sky.
Years of war and mistrust. The Solnesvet guarded their borders with might, only their pride and honour stopping them from seeking the right of conquest and marching into the lands of Jacira to take it for their own. Those few that did venture in, adventurers, bandits and explorers all found that while the Lunnesvet were not a warlike people their lands defended themselves. Trees would pull down invaders with their roots, thick mists would descend on the forests which themselves seemed to change and move around, landmarks disappearing and rearranging themselves so that any attempt to chart a course through the hostile lands was futile and the Lunnesvet themselves fought with trickery and cunning that matched the ferocity of the Solnesvet at every turn. The Lunnesvet in return sent spies into the kingdom of Arunika but how could one match the physical feats of the Solnesvet closely enough to live among them? Given away by their very deceptive nature most were never heard from again and those that returned had little to tell, the Solnesvet had nothing to hide, no secrets to steal, pride kept their hearts on their sleeves. Centuries would pass before diplomacy ever took hold, the winter solstice the only time the two bloodlines would meet each year in neutral ground, aristocrats of both kingdoms coming together under a banner of peace to celebrate the race as a whole from before the blood was diluted. Over time, talks turned to the others. Humans. Every growing, quickly multiplying, sweeping across the world with superior technology and numbers, covetous and warlike by nature they posed a threat to every race not their own and were soon poking at the borders of both kingdoms. Talks began, meetings between the royal families and a truce, a pact signed in marriage was made. The eldest prince and princess of both kingdoms, Lucian of Arunika and Alexandria of Jacira would marry and be crowned. New rulers, united to fight a common enemy and bring the two bloodlines together again.
Slowly, they fell in love. They had a daughter together, they were happy, there was hope.
Abruptly their lives were ended. Slain in their chambers in the kingdom of Arunika in the middle of the day.
Mikkel looked down at his pocket watch, a gold piece gifted to him from King Lucian sixteen years ago. It had taken a long time to warm to the man, Mikkel had ever been loyal to Alexandria and her family, distrustful of the Solnesvet but the king had been nothing if not an honest man, even jovial at times. He had treated him with respect too...Mikkel had clearly been important to his bride and had been treated as such, not as an outsider or a lesser being like one might think they would but as a part of the family. It had been difficult to hate Lucian when the man had tried so hard to win his trust and as Alexandria had fallen for him, Mikkel had come to respect and like him in kind. When their daughter had been born, both the king and queen had decided that Mikkel would be her godfather and he had been given this watch as a token of his station. From then Mikkel had watched over the girl as she had grown up, cared for her when her parents were ruling their kingdom. It had been the happiest time his life. He wasn't a vampire, Mikkel would eventually die but he was long lived, just over 70 years old though he looked barely older than 30 when his ageing had slowed dramatically. He smiled sadly as he closed the watch. All that was over now, it had been only 3 nights since they had been assassinated and they had moved quickly. All those he trusted were aboard the Datura now, the greatest airship of both, maybe any kingdom, powered by arcane magic and strange engineering feats far beyond his understanding it was larger than his home village of Edurne was by far and no doubt would be a shock to them when it hovered overhead in a few more days. Mikkel travelled back home once every few years on his own private pilgrimage, to receive his blessings, to consult with the witch who had recognised what he was at birth and had raised him those first few years. He was always welcome, greeted with smiles and nods and hope, everybody in the village knew who he was, the wolf, the first in generations. He had been sent to Jacira to meet the royal family when he was no more than 12, already trained to fight in the savage ways of his people and to use his gifts, immature as they were at the time, to serve and to learn as others chosen as he was had done in the past. He could think of no safer place to take his princess, to figure out what they must do next. Patience, even if he had wanted to tear the kingdom apart in search of the murderer he at least had learned that from the late queen. Keep Emmeline safe above all else, even vengeance. He was all she had left now.
He tucked the pocket watch away and pulled on his pristine white gloves, catching a glance of himself in the mirror. While guiding the princess he had also served as the head butler for the family. He chuckled to himself, a butler, a bodyguard, a godparent, a teacher. What he was didn't seem so important so long as he was there for them, there for her, and she needed him now more than ever. He walked through the spacious corridors of the airship, passing by trusted soldiers from both kingdoms, workers that would keep them in the air and guide them to Edurne, offering them sad smiles and polite nods until he came to the princess' room. He didn't knock...the guards didn't blink an eye as he opened the door and stepped inside, most nights he spent in the room recently anyway, watching over her, he had only been gone an hour to bathe and the two most trusted had been assigned to watch the room. Sure. Mikkel trusted everybody on the ship, to an extent, but he wouldn't lose her. He wouldn't be able to face her parents in the afterlife if he did. He laid down the silver platter beside her bed, picking up the teapot and one of the cups as he began to pour, his voice deep but soft as he spoke. "Time to wake up princess, the sun is down already. I would let you sleep until we arrive if I could, but in these times more than ever your people will need to see you, you'll have to be strong. They need to know that hope still lives." He tried to keep the smile in his tone, but he was still so very raw, he was still trying to process what had happened himself while remaining as stoic as he could for Emmeline, to try and be a safe haven for her. He placed down the steaming cup of tea next to the toast, the assortment of butter and jam on the platter beside it, careful not to touch the silver itself with any exposed flesh, thankful for the gloves. Chuckling as she stirred, his next words were just a little louder. "Come on, up with you. I even made your favourite tea, don't let it go cold now."
Beauty. Charm. Cunning. Minds that could twist and turn in so many ways that other vampires couldn't match their guile in a thousand human lifetimes, silver tongued and seductive beyond compare, scholars, artists and diplomats that could turn any to their cause with a soft touch, a gentle sigh and a whispered word. Blessed by the moon. Mischievous, deceptive, a bloodline gifted with elegance and perception. Through them flowed gifts other bloodlines had long since lost, captivating gazes that could transfix even the strongest of wills, beguiling words and delicate manipulation of desires given the form of beautiful sirens. The kingdom of Jacira was their home, a land of moonlit garden, enchanted forests and crystalline lakes where creatures not human or vampire span their webs of fey pleasures under the watchful eye of the royal family of De Moion. Those of the Lunnesvet bloodline were said to be cunning yet compassionate leaders loved for their peaceful approach and patronage of the arts among their people, admired for the diplomatic way they encouraged the growth of their bloodline. Brutality was abhorrent, savagery a concept with no word in their language and to solve a problem with force that could be solved with diplomacy was far worse than to succumb to it in the pale amber eyes of their people, eyes that glowed with the soft light of the full moon as it crested a clear night sky.
Years of war and mistrust. The Solnesvet guarded their borders with might, only their pride and honour stopping them from seeking the right of conquest and marching into the lands of Jacira to take it for their own. Those few that did venture in, adventurers, bandits and explorers all found that while the Lunnesvet were not a warlike people their lands defended themselves. Trees would pull down invaders with their roots, thick mists would descend on the forests which themselves seemed to change and move around, landmarks disappearing and rearranging themselves so that any attempt to chart a course through the hostile lands was futile and the Lunnesvet themselves fought with trickery and cunning that matched the ferocity of the Solnesvet at every turn. The Lunnesvet in return sent spies into the kingdom of Arunika but how could one match the physical feats of the Solnesvet closely enough to live among them? Given away by their very deceptive nature most were never heard from again and those that returned had little to tell, the Solnesvet had nothing to hide, no secrets to steal, pride kept their hearts on their sleeves. Centuries would pass before diplomacy ever took hold, the winter solstice the only time the two bloodlines would meet each year in neutral ground, aristocrats of both kingdoms coming together under a banner of peace to celebrate the race as a whole from before the blood was diluted. Over time, talks turned to the others. Humans. Every growing, quickly multiplying, sweeping across the world with superior technology and numbers, covetous and warlike by nature they posed a threat to every race not their own and were soon poking at the borders of both kingdoms. Talks began, meetings between the royal families and a truce, a pact signed in marriage was made. The eldest prince and princess of both kingdoms, Lucian of Arunika and Alexandria of Jacira would marry and be crowned. New rulers, united to fight a common enemy and bring the two bloodlines together again.
Slowly, they fell in love. They had a daughter together, they were happy, there was hope.
Abruptly their lives were ended. Slain in their chambers in the kingdom of Arunika in the middle of the day.
Mikkel looked down at his pocket watch, a gold piece gifted to him from King Lucian sixteen years ago. It had taken a long time to warm to the man, Mikkel had ever been loyal to Alexandria and her family, distrustful of the Solnesvet but the king had been nothing if not an honest man, even jovial at times. He had treated him with respect too...Mikkel had clearly been important to his bride and had been treated as such, not as an outsider or a lesser being like one might think they would but as a part of the family. It had been difficult to hate Lucian when the man had tried so hard to win his trust and as Alexandria had fallen for him, Mikkel had come to respect and like him in kind. When their daughter had been born, both the king and queen had decided that Mikkel would be her godfather and he had been given this watch as a token of his station. From then Mikkel had watched over the girl as she had grown up, cared for her when her parents were ruling their kingdom. It had been the happiest time his life. He wasn't a vampire, Mikkel would eventually die but he was long lived, just over 70 years old though he looked barely older than 30 when his ageing had slowed dramatically. He smiled sadly as he closed the watch. All that was over now, it had been only 3 nights since they had been assassinated and they had moved quickly. All those he trusted were aboard the Datura now, the greatest airship of both, maybe any kingdom, powered by arcane magic and strange engineering feats far beyond his understanding it was larger than his home village of Edurne was by far and no doubt would be a shock to them when it hovered overhead in a few more days. Mikkel travelled back home once every few years on his own private pilgrimage, to receive his blessings, to consult with the witch who had recognised what he was at birth and had raised him those first few years. He was always welcome, greeted with smiles and nods and hope, everybody in the village knew who he was, the wolf, the first in generations. He had been sent to Jacira to meet the royal family when he was no more than 12, already trained to fight in the savage ways of his people and to use his gifts, immature as they were at the time, to serve and to learn as others chosen as he was had done in the past. He could think of no safer place to take his princess, to figure out what they must do next. Patience, even if he had wanted to tear the kingdom apart in search of the murderer he at least had learned that from the late queen. Keep Emmeline safe above all else, even vengeance. He was all she had left now.
He tucked the pocket watch away and pulled on his pristine white gloves, catching a glance of himself in the mirror. While guiding the princess he had also served as the head butler for the family. He chuckled to himself, a butler, a bodyguard, a godparent, a teacher. What he was didn't seem so important so long as he was there for them, there for her, and she needed him now more than ever. He walked through the spacious corridors of the airship, passing by trusted soldiers from both kingdoms, workers that would keep them in the air and guide them to Edurne, offering them sad smiles and polite nods until he came to the princess' room. He didn't knock...the guards didn't blink an eye as he opened the door and stepped inside, most nights he spent in the room recently anyway, watching over her, he had only been gone an hour to bathe and the two most trusted had been assigned to watch the room. Sure. Mikkel trusted everybody on the ship, to an extent, but he wouldn't lose her. He wouldn't be able to face her parents in the afterlife if he did. He laid down the silver platter beside her bed, picking up the teapot and one of the cups as he began to pour, his voice deep but soft as he spoke. "Time to wake up princess, the sun is down already. I would let you sleep until we arrive if I could, but in these times more than ever your people will need to see you, you'll have to be strong. They need to know that hope still lives." He tried to keep the smile in his tone, but he was still so very raw, he was still trying to process what had happened himself while remaining as stoic as he could for Emmeline, to try and be a safe haven for her. He placed down the steaming cup of tea next to the toast, the assortment of butter and jam on the platter beside it, careful not to touch the silver itself with any exposed flesh, thankful for the gloves. Chuckling as she stirred, his next words were just a little louder. "Come on, up with you. I even made your favourite tea, don't let it go cold now."