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- Joined
- Nov 8, 2020
@DirrtyScarlett
"Farewell, my brother."
These were the only words spoken after the new Prince, formerly the Second Son of House Florianius, ascended the plateau, blue cloak wrapped tight about him in the wind as thoughts of grief and futures unknown filled his mind. The scent of smoke and salt was heavy against him as he listened to the words of the priests, away only of the gentle drone of voices without making sense of their words, his hand now resting upon the carved hilt of the ceremonial sword, held at his side as if he might carve away the ill feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. Lucian, of the great royal house, reigning sovereign of the mighty land of Carranthia, which had stood for countless glorious years, stared upon the unmoving form of his brother, dead in service to their nation and family.
All for Caranthia. And so he had died for it.
Lucian's heart felt heavy as he gazed upon the body. His brother had been such a strong man in life. In death, he seemed so much smaller, nothing more than a body to be consigned to graves and left until his very bones became dust...it had been hard. But it had been necessary, he told himself. To ascend after losing his brother. His brother had died...
Just like the others.
Lucian had no tongue for prayers. Not to any god, even if it was expected. In the great chamber where all had gathered to bid farewell, his brother, the great prince lay there quietly, with Lucian attending him in the honor of a state funeral. The Prime Minister, along with other chief ministers and council stood to one side, Lucian imagining his greatest adviser and close confidante were there, what his mother might have said. "Courage, Lucian," she might have whispered to him as he wore the slender platinum circlet now wrapped about his head. In his way, the only prayers could be to one's own conviction, one's own courage, one's own ambition. One lived and died by their skill and conviction, not the whims of distant, ephemeral deities, he thought. His forebears had always cautioned him that any decision of House Florianus would hold the fates of countless men and women in their hands...one had to trust in themselves before others could trust in them. He stared close, committing it all to memory.
Lucian was still a young man, young to inherit the crown and his great House. His body was muscled and firm from his years of training. His face was smoothly shaven, eyes the vivid blue and hair a dark black, worn short in contrast to his brother's preference for wearing it long.. The Knights stood nearest to him, the stalwart defenders of their family, clad all in armor, with their swords worn deferentially to his side. The Prince of Florianus knew them all, memorized every face even as he presented the harsh, unyielding side to all others in the great empire.
The priest in charge of the ceremony cleared his throat. "Today we witness the passing of Prince Marius, who gave his life in service of his House, as we honor the new great monarch, Lucian Florianus, First of his Name. Long may he reign!"
"Long may he reign," the echo was back as Lucian lowered his head deferentially to his people, the princely circlet heavy around his head in reminder of all he had done. The priest cleared his throat again. "It was with heavy hearts that the Prince fell before his time, in brave defense of his kingdom and people.,..and so we must discuss more now....
"We must discuss your marriage. to your brother's widow."
"Farewell, my brother."
These were the only words spoken after the new Prince, formerly the Second Son of House Florianius, ascended the plateau, blue cloak wrapped tight about him in the wind as thoughts of grief and futures unknown filled his mind. The scent of smoke and salt was heavy against him as he listened to the words of the priests, away only of the gentle drone of voices without making sense of their words, his hand now resting upon the carved hilt of the ceremonial sword, held at his side as if he might carve away the ill feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. Lucian, of the great royal house, reigning sovereign of the mighty land of Carranthia, which had stood for countless glorious years, stared upon the unmoving form of his brother, dead in service to their nation and family.
All for Caranthia. And so he had died for it.
Lucian's heart felt heavy as he gazed upon the body. His brother had been such a strong man in life. In death, he seemed so much smaller, nothing more than a body to be consigned to graves and left until his very bones became dust...it had been hard. But it had been necessary, he told himself. To ascend after losing his brother. His brother had died...
Just like the others.
Lucian had no tongue for prayers. Not to any god, even if it was expected. In the great chamber where all had gathered to bid farewell, his brother, the great prince lay there quietly, with Lucian attending him in the honor of a state funeral. The Prime Minister, along with other chief ministers and council stood to one side, Lucian imagining his greatest adviser and close confidante were there, what his mother might have said. "Courage, Lucian," she might have whispered to him as he wore the slender platinum circlet now wrapped about his head. In his way, the only prayers could be to one's own conviction, one's own courage, one's own ambition. One lived and died by their skill and conviction, not the whims of distant, ephemeral deities, he thought. His forebears had always cautioned him that any decision of House Florianus would hold the fates of countless men and women in their hands...one had to trust in themselves before others could trust in them. He stared close, committing it all to memory.
Lucian was still a young man, young to inherit the crown and his great House. His body was muscled and firm from his years of training. His face was smoothly shaven, eyes the vivid blue and hair a dark black, worn short in contrast to his brother's preference for wearing it long.. The Knights stood nearest to him, the stalwart defenders of their family, clad all in armor, with their swords worn deferentially to his side. The Prince of Florianus knew them all, memorized every face even as he presented the harsh, unyielding side to all others in the great empire.
The priest in charge of the ceremony cleared his throat. "Today we witness the passing of Prince Marius, who gave his life in service of his House, as we honor the new great monarch, Lucian Florianus, First of his Name. Long may he reign!"
"Long may he reign," the echo was back as Lucian lowered his head deferentially to his people, the princely circlet heavy around his head in reminder of all he had done. The priest cleared his throat again. "It was with heavy hearts that the Prince fell before his time, in brave defense of his kingdom and people.,..and so we must discuss more now....
"We must discuss your marriage. to your brother's widow."